


Bad Touch

by soulfulsin



Series: Mammals [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:39:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsin/pseuds/soulfulsin
Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of the battle with Magica, Webby faces the death of her only family, Mrs. Beakley. Desperate to escape the confining manor, she runs into trouble with the worst elements of Duckberg. Confronting the aftermath of that comes on the heels of finding out that Lena has feelings for her and that Magica is out for blood for her traitorous niece.





	1. Mania

She knew she ought to talk to someone. The triplets kept knocking on her door and offering her various enticements. Once, Scrooge even came to the door to offer consolation, but Webby didn't want it. In truth, she didn't know what she wanted. Maybe she wanted to fall asleep for a while, and when she woke up, this would all be a horrible dream. She didn't think she'd get her wish.

Scrooge and the others had captured Magica and destroyed her power base, at a terrible cost. Webby had lost her only family, her only biological family at any rate, and Lena had vanished. Lena didn't want to associate with Webby if all she was going to cause her was pain. In a way, Webby understood, but in another way, Webby resented her a little for being able to leave when Webby was trapped in her new hell.

It wasn't Lena's fault, no matter how much the teenager had tried to place the blame on her shoulders. Webby wished Lena understood that, but she couldn't have made her see sense. And now...Webby didn't feel like leaving the mansion to pursue her. She didn't want to do anything, really, except lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling.

Her grandmother, so long a bulwark in her life, was gone. Magica hadn't even been aiming at her, but at Scrooge, when her grandmother had perished. Her grandmother had gotten caught in the crosshairs.

Webby moaned, rolling over onto her stomach. She'd been in here for hours and hadn't eaten or slept, just stared blankly at nothing. She'd locked the door to prevent any unwelcome intruders, which was why she was startled and alarmed when the door handle started moving on its own.

"You won't let us in, so we're resorting to extreme measures," Huey announced. "We will break the lock if you don't open the door."

Webby stared, uncertain whether she wanted them to break in or not.

"And he has his Junior Woodchuck guidebook to help him," Louie added. "He means business."

She groaned, flopping onto the floor. She hadn't the energy to walk to the door and open it. If they wanted access, they might as well come in. It wasn't like she was stopping them.

"We don't have to break the door down," Huey added. "If you just let us in."

"We're worried about you," Dewey chimed in.

"Leave me alone," she murmured.

"You can't be left alone right now," Huey argued. "That's the worst possible thing for you to be."

"No, the worst possible thing to be is dead," she said, and the words fell hard between the four of them. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, yeah, but..." Louie faltered.

"Like Granny," she replied, her voice muffled because she'd rolled into the carpet.

"Please let us help you," Huey insisted.

"Yeah," Dewey added. "We know it's like to miss someone."

She could lash out. If she did, maybe they'd go away. But she loved them too much to hurt them, especially considering how much she was hurting. Instead, she said nothing, hoping the silence spoke for itself.

"Come in, then," she sighed. There was a click, and the door swung open. Webby looked up to spy Huey with the keys--he hadn't been about to break in any way. It'd been a ruse. She was vaguely impressed, in the distant part of her mind that hadn't gone completely numb.

"Are we sitting on the floor?" Louie asked and plopped beside her. "Hey."

"Hi," she muttered.

"You're gonna get sick if you breathe in the carpet's fumes," Huey argued and scooped her up. She leaned against him; she was unresisting, but she hated how her heart had lurched when he'd touched her.

"So?" she muttered. "Wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened this week."

Dewey plopped down on Webby's other side, and between the three of them, they propped her up.

"I understand that you want to run and hide," Huey said. "We've been there."

"And we know how much this situation sucks," Louie added.

"So we're here for you," Dewey finished.

It was exhausting to speak to them. Silence fell again, and she could sense the triplets' discomfort.

"So, is this a thing? Are we just going to sit here and stare at the walls?" Louie asked, and she snorted weakly.

"Give her time," Huey coaxed. "She'll talk to us when she's ready."

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready," she sighed.

"Then we'll just sit here," Huey replied.

"Doing nothing," Dewey added.

"Staring at the walls. Man, I could use a Coke," Louie said, and his brothers glared at him. "What? I'm thirsty. There's a lot of dust in this house now."

Huey smacked Louie in the shoulder. "Way to be insensitive."

"It's okay," she said in a hollow voice. "It's fine. I'm okay."

"You haven't eaten or drunk anything all day," Dewey pointed out. "And you've been locked in your room on and off since the duel with Magica."

"Yeah, I guess I have. Heh," she said and laughed humorlessly.

“We’re worried about you,” Huey pressed. “C’mon, come with us. We’ll get you something to eat if Louie hasn’t raided the fridge by now.”

“You make one sandwich, and suddenly, you’re the bad guy,” Louie said and shrugged.

Although she didn’t say she wanted food, she let them lead her toward the kitchen. Scrooge was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well. She didn’t want any further complications. If the triplets wanted her to eat, she’d eat. If they wanted her to drink, she could do that too. It didn’t mean she’d derive any pleasure out of it.

“Now, I can cook up a mean omelet,” Huey said. “Part of earning a badge for my Junior Woodchucks.”

“Whatever,” Webby said and regretted it, seeing Huey’s crestfallen face. “Sorry. I mean, sure, go ahead.”

Huey cast her one last glance before firing up the stove and prepping the pan. Webby sighed, head thudding onto the table. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be anywhere.

"Hey, wanna hear a joke I've been working on for my late night show?" Dewey asked.

Not really...

She couldn't muster a smile or any encouragement, yet Dewey launched into his routine anyway. The words rushed past her without her making sense of them. At the appropriate times, she nodded.

"She's not paying attention to you," Louie interjected.

"Sure she is," Dewey said. "Aren't you, Webby?"

"Uh huh," she said in a dull voice. She was staring without seeing at Huey making the omelet. It didn't smell appetizing, and it'd probably taste like dust in her mouth.

Everything she'd eaten lately had the same terrible consistency. She didn't want to eat. It felt like she was just trudging through life. Granny had been the closest thing she'd had to a mother as far as Webby could remember. Webby almost wished she'd died with her.

"Hey, I got answers for some of your questions to Scrooge's parents," Louie said. "Hmm? You loveMcDuck lure."

"That's nice," she said, and Huey dropped the spatula. The triplets exchanged shocked looks like she'd just said she wanted to play in traffic. She knew this wasn't normal behavior for her, even while she also knew that Louie probably didn't have any answers and was just trying to pique her interest.

"Who are you and what have you done with our friend Webby?" Dewey cried, shaking her.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "Leave me alone."

She pushed Dewey off and stood up from the table. "I'm not very hungry. Thanks for the offer, Huey."

"You have to eat," he said, aghast. "You can't starve yourself."

"I'm not hungry," she repeated. "Don't worry about me."

"Even if you're not hungry, you still have to eat," Huey argued. "A little bit won't hurt."

"I'm not hungry, damn it!" she snapped and again, the triplets looked stunned. Taking advantage of their stupor, she left the kitchen and headed back to her room. She was going to take that key and bury it somewhere in her room so that the triplets couldn't break in again. And then, well...she had no idea. Scrooge probably had a master key too. There was no escape, not unless she left the mansion.

Maybe she ought to do that, then. Leave the mansion and the triplets' misplaced concern behind. She could handle herself. And maybe she'd be lucky and something horrible would happen. The formless idea of it was appealing in a morbid way.

"She didn't have to curse at us," Louie said in a small voice.

She slowed, still listening to the boys' talk.

"One of us has to keep an eye on her," Huey said. "Junior Woodchuck Guidebook states that people who are grieving tend to do stupid things."

Webby huffed and walked away. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she swiped at them. She didn't know why she was crying, but she was sick of it. She was sick of feeling weak and helpless and miserable. Whenever her emotions thawed out, whenever the numbness abated, misery took its place.

Why couldn't Magica have missed? Why had her grandmother left her all alone?

\----

Lena de Spell no longer had to worry about a shadow following her. Magica's power base had returned her to a shadow of a shadow, incapable of harming anyone while she worked to regain her energy. Lena had her freedom, but the cost was unthinkable. Right now, she stood outside McDuck Manor and wrapped her fingers around the iron gates. Webby. Webby's distraught sobs after her grandmother had died and Lena's aunt's cackling laughter at seeing her abject misery.

Lena hadn't had control of her body then, but it'd still been her body Magica had used to strike Mrs. Beakley down. Lena felt responsible, regardless of what Webby had told her. And now she felt responsible for Webby's depression and wasn't sure how to step in if Webby even wanted her to.

She had to do something. She couldn't just stand there and grip the iron bars while staring at the manor.

"All right," Lena said, steeling herself and slipping through the gates. "I'm coming for you. Ready or not, here I come. I just hope I'm not making a big mistake...again."

She walked onto the driveway and then rang the doorbell. Huey answered and looked at her suspiciously. Lena plastered on her most winsome smile and wished anyone else, even the ghost Duckworth, had answered the bell. The triplets would be protective over Webby. They weren't liable to let Lena in.

"What are you doing here?" Huey asked, narrowing his gaze at her. "And you'd better be alone."

"I'm alone. See?" She held up her hands and puffed out her shirt to show she had no magical amulet on her person. Stepping back, she invited Huey to look at the driveway if he didn't believe her. He frowned and shut the door, not all the way, but enough so that she knew he was conferring with one of his brothers.

Lena politely pretended she couldn't hear every word they were saying.

"She's the reason Webby's like this," Dewey hissed.

"She might be able to help," Huey argued. "And maybe Webby will see her if she won't talk to us."

"Or she could curse her out," Dewey replied.

"'Damn' isn't that strong a curse," Louie observed. "I mean, it's nothing compared to sh--"

"Louie!" Huey reprimanded.

"I'm just saying," Louie said.

"Should we let her in or not?" Huey asked, sounding aggrieved. Movement caught Lena's eye and she saw a small figure descending on bedsheets climbing out the window of a second story room. Lena rolled her eyes. Typical. They were too preoccupied with their own inane problems to notice the object of their scrutiny was heading for the hills.

"You guys sort that out amongst yourselves," Lena said. "I'm gonna go stop Webby from living on the hard streets."

She had no doubt that was what Webby intended to do. Of course, Webby had the street smarts of a hamster in a world full of cats.

The triplets yelped and scurried outside. Lena had a head start on them, given her longer legs and also, her observation skills not being completely rubbish. She saw Webby skid to a halt on the roof and then continue her descent. She was oblivious to the crowd gathering, or, rather, she was until the triplets started calling her name. Lena facepalmed. Why...

"You can't run away!" Louie objected. "You don't even know where you're going!"

Webby cursed a rather long epithet that made Lena proud. She hadn't even known Webby knew half those words. The boys, by contrast, were shocked and dismayed by Webby's language.

"Just because you can talk like a sailor doesn't mean you can walk the streets like one," Lena called and Webby spun about on the bedsheet that was dangling above the ground.

"Lena?" Webby said weakly.

"I had nothing better to do, so I thought I'd drop by," Lena lied. Webby's face, which had appeared earnest, shuttered and Lena hissed. Wrong thing to say.

"All right, fine," she said as Webby slipped down to the ground. "I'm here because I was worried about you."

"We're all worried about you," Huey added. "You can't go on living like this."

"I don't want to," Webby spat.

"Come here," Lena said, ignoring Huey again.

The younger girl hesitated, weighing her options. There was a large part of Webby that wanted to lash out, hurt everyone so they couldn't come near her, but that was balanced with the part that genuinely cared about everyone and didn't want to inflict more pain. For a second, it looked like the latter part might win.

Then Webby bolted for the gates and the others gave chase.

Lena hissed a curse of her own and gritted her teeth. Webby could run awfully fast when she was trying to avoid them. Lena might've been able to outpace the triplets, but Webby was another story. The younger girl slipped through the gates.

"Seriously, where does she think she's going?" Louie asked. "I mean, it's not like she thought this through. Which, come to think of it, isn't like Webby at all."

"She's not thinking," Lena said, halting and trying to come up with a game plan. "She's blindly reacting. She's trying to run away from her problems, literally, and trust me, you can't."

"We're just going to let her go?" Huey asked, incredulous.

"If Webby were going to go somewhere to seek solace, where would she go?" Lena asked. She folded her arms across her chest.

"I...I thought she'd have stayed at home or done something with Scrooge," Dewey said, uncertain. "Now I don't know what she wants anymore."

"Scrooge!" Lena said and the three gave her dirty looks. "No, guys, listen. If we can get Scrooge and Launchpad, we'll be able to outrun her."

"Yeah..." Huey said, allowing that. "But what if she goes underground?"

Lena winced. The crowd that ran underground was too rough for Webby. Webby might be able to handle herself in a fight, but not against knives and guns. She could end up seriously injured. Lena's heart lurched and she fought dismay. Oh god, the last thing she wanted was for Webby to be hurt...

"Then we'll search the underground too!" Dewey said, oblivious to Lena's reaction.

"We'd better bring some protection," Lena said, not looking at the triplets but seeing the gangs she'd avoided below the city. "This could get ugly."

\----

While Webby had extensive knowledge of McDuck Manor and Scrooge McDuck, she didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of Duckberg. Within minutes, she found herself lost and her pace slowed to a walk. The triplets were right. She didn't know where she was going. And she could've spoken to Lena...her heart pounded painfully in her chest.

The truth was she wasn't thinking anything through. She knew better, too, but her emotions were everywhere. She found herself near the old theatre where she'd first met Lena and her steps slowed further. If she hadn't met Lena...but, no, that was inevitable. And there was no point in thinking like that.

No one awaited her at the abandoned theatre and she plopped onto the wooden stage. Sighing, she flopped onto her back. The waves lapped at the shore and seagulls cried. The emptiness Webby had sought to outpace had caught up to her and her chest hurt like someone had staved it in.

Alone without the possibility of interruption for the first time since her grandmother's death, she gave vent to the sobs that she'd held in for so long. Weeping silently was one thing, but the wails that had burned within her burst out in an excruciating manner. She curled into a ball and cried, thinking horrible things and hating herself for feeling them. Cursing herself for knowing that if she had gotten what she wanted, she would've hurt the ones she still loved and cared about and knowing she was selfish and unable to stop it.

She wasn't sure how long she cried for, only that she stopped when her head ached and she had no more tears left. Unwilling to move, she stared up at the stage lights and resolved not to think.

Unfortunately, as per her usual, her thoughts raced. She couldn't shut her brain off, try as she might, and the ideas that swirled around made her thoroughly miserable. She knew she was a prime target right now, vulnerable and alone, and while she didn't move from the spot, she listened more intently to her surroundings. Just because she thought she was isolated didn't mean someone couldn't drop in and she'd be a pawn to use against Scrooge.

She stared around her and sighed.

"Look, if you're here to kidnap me, go right ahead. I won't even fight you. See? I'm not moving."

No one responded, and she snorted weakly. Yeah, that had scared off her would-be assailants. Sure.

"Cute," a male voice sneered, and Webby jumped to her feet. She assumed a defensive position and shuddered, scanning her surroundings to ascertain where the voice was coming from. She pivoted, turning toward the dry chuckle and then stopped in her tracks when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Four thugs slipped out of the shadows and approached her. Two out of the four were carrying guns and the rest carrying knives. Webby winced, mind running through scenarios that didn't involve her getting hurt. She came up with nothing. If only she weren't outnumbered and outgunned. She was starting to think her rash behavior hadn't been entirely wise...

The four thugs were dogs, like the Beagle Boys, but that was where the similarities ended. They were bulldogs with scars along their cheeks and their shoulders. They wore black wife beaters and matching black pants. Webby faltered, taking a step back, and the two holding guns followed her movement. She gulped.

"I...I see there's been a grave misunderstanding," Webby ventured, voice trembling. "I'm sorry to have intruded. I'll be on my way."

"No," the same male voice said, and Webby took him to be the leader. He was the tallest, most roughed up of the quartet. Webby's heart thudded as she looked at the handgun pointed at her head. She didn't have to turn to know there was another one aimed at her back.

"It's been a while since we've had a girl to play with," he continued, his unctuous tones striking nerves along her body. Could she make it to the curtain, rip it off, and shield herself before they shot her?

No, probably not. And they didn't look like they were bluffing, either.

Her phone rang, and her fingers inched toward it.

"Don't," the leader snapped. "Don't you dare answer that."

"Look, like I said, this is just a grave misunderstanding and--"

"Shut up," he snapped and aimed a shot that missed her head by inches. Webby shuddered.

Webby clamped her jaw shut on nervous laughter.

"Come here," he ordered and, meekly, she shuffled closer to him. If she could disable him and get the gun away from the other guy, she might stand a chance. Or...she could trick them into aiming at each other...

"Don't get any ideas," the leader snapped, pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple. "Now, I may be a little rusty, but I can remember the steps clear enough."

\----

"She isn't answering her phone," Huey said. Lena's stomach somersaulted.

"She probably has a tracker on me. Why didn't I ever think of putting one on her?" Scrooge said and scowled at Launchpad. "Concentrate on your driving, not our conversation."

"But it's not like there's anyone that dangerous around now that Magica's out of the picture, right?" Louie said.

"There are," Lena said, clenching her eyes shut tight as if she could push away from the dreadful feeling in her stomach. "You don't know. You're a kid and you don't go into the bad parts of town. But there are gangs here, not the Beagle Boys, but a lot worse. And they won't hesitate to attack an unarmed girl."

"Do you know where they hang out, lassie?" Scrooge asked.

"There's one place we can try first," Lena said. "Maybe we'll be lucky and she decided to go to a movie."

"How bad are we talking about, anyway?" Dewey asked in a would-be casual voice.

"Let's just say that she's in way over her head," Lena said and swallowed past a lump in her throat.

"They'd really hurt her, wouldn't they?" Scrooge said and his words felt like a dire pronouncement.

"Without any hesitation," Lena whispered. This was all her fault. She balled her fists and wished she didn't feel so impotent. The thought that Webby could be lying somewhere, battered and bruised, made her stomach clench.

"She can defend herself, can't she?" Huey said. "We've seen her do it."

"No one can defend themselves against guns and knives barehanded," Lena whispered.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Scrooge snapped at Launchpad.

"I'm trying, Mister McD, but you haven't given me a place to drive to," Launchpad pointed out.

"The old abandoned theatre," Lena said. "We'll start there."

"Aye, we'll get there in time, don't you worry," Scrooge said.

"This isn't a cartoon," Lena said and the tension and worry over Webby choked her. "There aren't always happy endings."

"We should call Gizmoduck," Huey said and she opened her eyes.

"Gizmo who?" she asked.

"Gizmoduck. If Webby's up against people who are armed, then we need him," Huey said.

"That's a good idea, lad," Scrooge approved. "And if she can hold them off for a little while..."

Lena was torn between wanting to scold Webby when they met again and wanting to hug her so tightly she'd never leave her.

Scrooge caught her eye in the rearview mirror. "Don't go blaming yourself, lassie. You didn't know this was going to happen."

How could she have expected Webby to want to come to her when their original friendship had been based off lies? How could Webby care for her at all? Obviously, she hadn't cared enough to halt her run out of McDuck Manor.

Lena stared at her reflection in the window. Hang on, we're coming for you.

\----

Fighting off the triplets and weak assailants were one thing. Fighting off four armed assailants, two of whom had guns trained on her, was another matter. She struggled, regardless, and one of the thugs pinned her to the ground with their knife. It quivered less than an inch from her hip and she trembled.

"Y--you know," she stammered. "I could help you guys. I know--"

The gun returned to her temple and pressed against it painfully.

"We don't care what you know," the leader said coldly. "Stop resisting."

Webby's heart pounded and she watched the second thug descend with his knife. She reached for the one pinning her skirt to the floor and the leader whacked her with the gun's handle, leaving her stunned.

"Just hold still," the leader intoned. He grinned cruelly. "This'll be over before you know it."

\----

Lena ran out of the car as soon as it stopped (miraculously not crashing) and pelted toward Webby, who was lying in what Lena hoped wasn't her own blood but strongly suspected was. Webby groaned and Lena fell to her knees beside the younger girl. The triplets, Scrooge, and Launchpad were right behind her.

"There are worse things than death," Webby said weakly, a frail and humorless smile crossing her lips.

"Don't worry, I got a few shots in too," she continued, though her condition suggested otherwise. Her clothes were in tatters and Lena scooped her up to hug her to her. Her hands trembled as she stroked Webby's hair. The telltale ribbon was nowhere to be seen.

"What happened here?" Scrooge cried.

The triplets halted a few feet from Webby and exchanged stricken looks. No one knew quite what to say. Lena felt it was obvious what had happened, but no one wanted to utter it as if to say it would be to make it more concrete.

"I'm ready to go home now," Webby murmured and her head rested against Lena's shoulder. She tugged weakly on Lena's shirt. "You're coming, aren't you?"

Lena was torn between dismay over Webby and rage that someone had hurt her like this. She saw the expression mirrored on Scrooge's face too.

"Go home with them, lassie," Scrooge said and she could see him visibly restraining his fury. His hands were tight on the cane.

"I'll handle this," Scrooge said in a cold voice, one that, for once, prompted no arguments from the triplets.  
\----

 

He had waited until the children were safely ensconced in the manor before turning to Launchpad. He was irate, longing to punish those criminals to within an inch of their lives. It would be up to Webby whether she'd tell the triplets, but he'd seen the knowledge of what Webby had endured mirrored in Lena's face. It made him wonder, though perhaps for another time, whether they ought to encourage Lena to stay in the manor where it was safe.

But Lena was a problem for another day. He wasn't sure whether these criminals had assaulted Webby to prove a point to him or because they were vicious malcontents. This might not be related to him at all, but that didn't mean they were free from his vengeance. Webby was family and no one touched Scrooge's family.

He'd have to work slowly and grease a few palms. The ne'er do wells would probably be eager to spill their story, a thought that likewise filled Scrooge with a simmering rage.

"Mr. McD?" Launchpad said, wary. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm not bloody okay!" Scrooge snarled. "Someone attacked my grand-niece and then got away with it! When I find out who's responsible, there's nowhere on Earth they'll be able to run to get away from me."

Scrooge stared at Webby's window. For the first time in his life, he almost considered cold-blooded murder. Webby was a child, damn it. And children were supposed to be off-limits. Especially someone he cared for.

Like it or not, he'd have to wait for the information to trickle in. And Launchpad was too conspicuous to work as a secret agent. He also didn't want to part Lena and Webby so soon after their reunion, but Lena might be able to identify the criminals.

He sighed, hands gripping the cane tightly enough for the wood to crackle ominously. "Let's see if we can wring some information out of someone."

Without waiting to see if Launchpad was following, he stormed up to the manor. He was too enraged to think straight. They would pay. Oh, yes, they would.


	2. Immortals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The triplets are very protective over Webby after her incident. Lena vows to track down the Bloodhound Gang and find out more information for Scrooge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire series was written prior to the season finale. As you might expect, the season finale rendered this entire series horribly AU instead of what I'd been hoping for, which was close to canon but not. As you might expect, the season finale, although thoroughly awesome, means that I need to redefine who Lena is.
> 
> In this universe, Lena is biologically a duck, not a shadow construct of Magica de Spell. She grows, she ages, and she's not bound magically to anyone (anymore). She grew up on the streets after losing her father (her father's still alive, but he's a raven) at an early age. She can wield magic as a result of her heritage.
> 
> Also, in how I'd envisioned the season finale AU, there was a big showdown in the McDuck Manor and Magica attacked everyone there, blasting people with her staff and hitting Mrs. Beakley. That didn't happen in the show, obviously.
> 
> Sorry for the spoilers, but I'm assuming you've seen the season finale. If you haven't, oops. And sorry for the long author's note.

If the boys were concerned about Webby before, they were far worse now. They refused to let Webby out of their sight, no matter how irritating Lena found their presence. She wanted to draw Webby off and talk to her privately about what had happened (if the younger girl was willing to speak), but with the triplets' lingering, she couldn't broach the subject. It was clear the triplets had lived a sheltered life. Lena hadn't been so lucky.

Webby clung to Lena; the boys had allowed Webby to change, albeit reluctantly, and after a long shower in which Lena thought the younger girl was trying to drown herself, she'd emerged.

"Webs, what happened out there?" Huey asked insistently.

"I understand you're concerned," Lena said, struggling to keep a lid on her temper, "but give her some space."

" _You_  give her space," Huey retorted, sullen. Great, they were feeling possessive about her too. Webby flinched in Lena's arms; Lena had been reluctant to release Webby for very long. Now would've been a good time to admit her true feelings about her, but she wasn't about to unburden herself in front of an audience.

"You're not helping," Lena retorted.

Webby shivered, beset by a preternatural chill. Lena sympathized.

Dewey inched forward and held Webby's hand. He squeezed it and Webby squeezed back.

"We're not leaving you alone," Dewey said, looking her in the eyes. "Okay?"

Webby nodded and Lena hated the blank, glassy look in her eyes.

Someone knocked on the door and the five of them jumped. Scrooge entered and Webby jerked her gaze away from the door. That was a curious and uneasy movement and Lena gave Scrooge a dirty look that he ignored.

"Lena, I need to talk to you," he said.

"Don't go," Webby said hoarsely, her first few words since they'd found her. Gizmoduck had swept the area but hadn't found a trace of the villains. Of the group, only Lena stood a chance of identifying them.

Scrooge frowned. Clearly, this was a delicate proposition and he didn't want the others to hear it. Just as clearly, Webby grabbed Lena's wrists to try to force her to stay put. Lena smiled weakly.

"I'll do it," she said quietly.

"I haven't even asked you anything," Scrooge objected.

"No, but I know what you want," she said. "And I'll find them for you."

Her eyes blazed and she could feel the vestiges of magic within her stir. She might have gotten rid of Magica, but she had power on her own. Scrooge didn't need to know that. He might not trust her if he did.

"All right," Scrooge said after a minute. He moved into the room and cupped Webby's chin. "Chin up, lassie. They won't get away with this."

Webby didn't say anything and he sighed, releasing her. Her lower lip trembled.

"Uncle Scrooge?" she said when he was at the door. He turned back toward her. "They called themselves the Bloodhound Gang."

"Good to know," he said and his gaze sharpened, colder and harsher. "I'll be looking for them."

* * *

When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were vicious, cruel things. They shifted from scenes of her grandmother's demise to Webby's battering and attack by the Bloodhound Gang. She could feel them pinning her down with the guns cocked at her head, could feel them moving against her, and though she struggled, it only seemed to entertain them. A scream built up in Webby's throat and she startled awake, sobbing and yelping.

"Webby!" Huey said. "Shoosh, you were having a nightmare."

"Don't be so sure that was all it was," Lena said cryptically. Webby rubbed her eyes to see the older girl perched at the foot of her bed. The triplets had assumed positions either on her bed or on the floor nearby. When she was younger, Webby would've run for her grandmother and had her soothe away her tears. Granny was gone.

Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks and Huey wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey, we're here," he soothed. "You're gonna be okay. We're not going to let anything happen to you."

An odd expression flitted across Lena's face, though it might've been the lighting from the moon and the single lamp Dewey had clicked on. It almost looked like Lena resented Huey for consoling Webby, but nah, that was ridiculous. Webby shuddered and Louie moved to rub her back while Dewey took her hands.

Webby couldn't speak. Her throat was too tight and she pressed her face into Huey's shoulder. She felt rather than saw Lena approach, sitting in front of her.

"Scrooge wants me to help hunt down the Bloodhound Gang," Lena said quietly and Webby's heart seized in her chest. She lifted her head from Huey's shoulder.

"I wanted to wait until you were awake to go," she continued. She seemed to be debating something and then, with a shrug, decided to throw all caution to the wind. She leaned forward and kissed Webby on the cheek. Stunned, Webby removed a hand from Dewey's to touch her cheek.

"I'll be back," Lena promised without giving Webby a chance to react. Stunned, she watched the older girl leave the room and her heart ached, but she wasn't sure why.

Lips trembling, she called, "Wait!"

Lena turned, frowning as she came back. Uncertain what else to do, she handed her the friendship bracelet she'd never taken off. Lena no longer had hers, for reasons Lena had made clear to her, but Webby didn't want Lena to go down into the underground without feeling like Webby had her back in some way.

She couldn't speak beyond what she'd already said, so she held out the bracelet wordlessly and Lena took it, strapping it to her wrist. Webby was relieved, though, once she'd taken it and left.

"Dude," Louie said once Lena was out of earshot. "She  _kissed_  you."

Webby felt like she ought to have appreciated it more or responded better, but she was at a loss. Louie kept rubbing her back, although it was distracted, and Dewey and Huey were looking at the doorway that Lena had vacated.

"Webs?" Louie pressed. "You're not gonna say anything?"

Webby turned beet red and buried her face in her hands. She'd stopped crying and was flushing hard enough to cook an egg. Oh god. Lena had  _kissed_ her. Okay, it was a delayed reaction, but considering she'd woken up from a nightmare, she thought she was entitled.

"Think that's why she kept trying to get us to leave earlier?" Huey remarked in an undertone to Louie.

"It's weird as hell..." Louie said.

Without Louie propping her up, as he'd moved to Huey's side, she flopped back onto the bed. She wanted to bask in the moment. To be certain, that had eradicated all lingering thoughts of the nightmare. It was the first time she'd ever been kissed by a non-relative. And by Lena of all people!

"Crap, she's broken again," Louie said and poked at her.

Webby squealed and then dashed for the door only for the three boys to tackle her to the floor.

"You're not going anywhere," Huey said sternly. "Not again."

"Lena will come back," Louie added.

"How did I end up getting crushed?" Dewey muttered.

It was odd, but being in a dogpile with the boys also stirred her emotions. She didn't feel them as strongly as she might've before the incidents, but she felt more like herself than she had all week. She smiled and it didn't feel forced.

"You know, I could go for food," she said conversationally.

"So, all we needed to do to get her to eat was kiss her?" Dewey mused.

"I have no idea," Huey said and the boys uncovered her and helped her to her feet. "But I'll take it as a good sign."

Webby's heart clenched. Lena had better get back soon. She needed to talk to her about that kiss. Mmm...kissing...

She smiled wider.

* * *

Lena's heart was in her throat as she slipped into the underground. Scrooge had promised back-up if she needed it and Gizmoduck would be keyed to a button on her hip. She wished she could say she didn't need support, but she might be getting in over her head. Yes, she still had magic, but that didn't mean she knew how to use it.

The subway underground crackled with firelight and she heard glass bottles being thrown around. She'd have to walk a mile or so before encountering someone and while she walked, her anxiety soared. She bit the inside of her cheek. This was for Webby. She was returning to the horrifying world of the underground for Webby. Unconsciously, she rubbed the friendship bracelet Webby had given her.

She half expected Magica to be trailing her as her shadow and whispering invectives. It wasn't like she'd had anywhere else to live, not that Magica understood that. Her father was a raven, damn it. She didn't have a lot of options.

It was weird. Without Magica, Lena still felt like she was being trailed. Was she? A shadow flitted around the corner, but that might've been her paranoia. She placed a hand on her hip, where she carried a dagger in a sheath. She normally didn't carry a weapon, but Scrooge had insisted. He'd started to say that he would've sent someone like Mrs. Beakley with her...and then they both had had a moment. Yes, if Webby's grandmother had survived, none of this would've happened.

Lena didn't want to seem desperate and start running. Besides, running toward danger was never a great idea. She could feel her pulse pounding. This was the first time she'd been alone, completely alone, without Magica, in a dangerous place, in a very long time. Most of Lena's earliest memories included Magica in some form or another.

She told herself she could handle this. She knew what she was on about and she had a goal in mind. And Scrooge had insisted she not engage with the Bloodhound Gang. Lena unconsciously groped where the amulet had been and remembered, again, that she didn't have it. But Webby had given her the friendship bracelet. She stroked it and tried to feel braver than she was.

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she willed herself to put one foot in front of the other. The last time she'd been down here, only Magica's influence had prevented her from getting jumped. As much as she loathed her aunt (and her hatred of her had only escalated, seeing Webby's condition), she wouldn't have minded her company. For once.

She halted and ducked around a corner when she heard people talking around a campfire. The smell of pot and booze was prevalent and she wrinkled her beak. Was it possible to get a contact high standing five feet away? Yeah, probably. But this could be the gang Webby was talking about. They looked villainous enough.

And they were bragging about something.

The four dogs were seated around the campfire and passing around what smelled to Lena like rotgut. Her stomach curdled.

"So, the little bitch was wriggling beneath my knife, see?" one of the bulldogs said and Lena took a deep breath, this time to keep herself from tearing in there and punching him in the face. She assessed her weapons, pitiful though they were, and decided she might as well make an impression. Yes, Scrooge had told her not to engage, but Lena's rage had simmered to the surface and she couldn't control herself.

Rocking back and forth on her heels innocently, Lena plopped down near their fire. They glowered at her and she smiled innocently.

"I couldn't help but overhear," she said. "I was just wondering who you pulled one over on."

"Not that it's any of your business," the bulldog said, voice slurred, "but..."

"It's none of your business," the leader growled. "Who are you?"

"If you're not going to be friendly..." Lena said and casually played with her knife. "I just thought you guys wanted to brag, but I guess I was wrong. I guess whatever you did wasn't good enough to tell someone else about."

"Fuck you, of course it was," the bravo who had spoken before growled. "And I don't know who it was. Just some little duckling I screwed five ways from Saturday."

It took all of Lena's self-control not to stab the bulldog in the heart. She could feel her blood pressure mounting and her hands trembled with rage. He spoke of abusing Webby so casually, like destroying her innocence meant so little to him. Lena's eyelid twitched. She was sick with hatred.

"She put up a hell of a fight, though," the leader mused, taking a large swallow of rotgut. "Damn near took me out. And Derek here, he couldn't even finish because she kicked him so hard in the balls that I swear they curled up inside of him."

Lena worked on controlling her breathing. She could almost hear Magica exhorting her to kill them. She might be outnumbered, but they were drunk and their guns and knives were too far away to be of much use in a fight. But if she killed them, no matter how tempting it was, Scrooge would never let her near Webby again. But, oh, did she want them dead. Somehow, she thought perhaps Scrooge might want them dead too.

_Webby..._

"You want a drink?" the leader asked and shook the bottle at her. She grabbed it from him and rather than taking a long pull, she smashed it over his head. The three others turned, stunned, and too inebriated to process what she'd done. By that time, she'd whirled around and pinned the leader against the wall with the glass shards digging into his neck.

"You made a big mistake," Lena growled. She kept the corners of her eyes on the other three in case they made any sudden moves. They were staggering and so drunk they fell over on attempting to stand. It would've been amusing if she weren't near apoplectic with rage.

"Is she your sister or something?" the leader asked, looking alarmed.

"Close enough," she spat. She kicked him in the groin and then before the others had the sense to give chase, she bolted away. She couldn't help but feel she was fleeing from a fight, but she had promised Scrooge she wouldn't engage. She'd already partially broken that promise.

And if she stayed any longer, she  _would_  murder them. The mile that she traveled down didn't seem so long coming back up, perhaps because she was running to get the aggression out. She didn't want to return to McDuck Manor in a homicidal rage.

Magica would've been proud of her for wanting to kill someone. She would've loved that her niece had such rage within her. That she could emulate Magica sickened Lena and competed with the fury surging through her. She thought she might be nauseous.

The worst part was that she could have killed them. They were vulnerable, weaponless, and drunk to boot. It would have been easy. Her hands trembled and she balled them into her shirt. Or, rather, she tried, only to discover she was still holding the broken bottle in her right hand.

She wasn't sure if she was crying or screaming. It was possible it was both. So easy...so easy to draw that little red line across the leader's throat...and what kind of person would she be if she did that? How would Webby regard her, never mind Scrooge? Webby was an innocent...or had been, before the Bloodhound Gang had sunk their claws into her.

She threw away the bottle and worked on calming herself down before she lost control. There was a thin line between sanity and madness. She feared if she crossed it, she'd never be able to come back. Webby's face, tear-streaked and despondent, flashed through her head and she ground her teeth. She touched the bracelet around her wrist. Webby loved her. Webby loved her and would never approve of Lena's homicidal leanings. She needed to get herself under control before she broke something. Or someone.

* * *

Webby almost felt like her old self. She was teasing the boys and although there was a hollowness in her chest, she could almost ignore it. Scrooge happened upon them attempting to make a cake at two in the morning and although Webby was more tired than she'd ever been in her life, she'd smiled at her uncle.

"Uh, hi, Uncle Scrooge," she said and smiled innocently. "We'll clean that up."

"I'm glad to see you smiling, lass," he said. He stroked her hair and she smiled back.

"It'll take a while," Dewey said and she looked at him. "To come to terms with it. But we're not leaving you. We're not going anywhere."

"And neither is Lena," she said fiercely and looked at Scrooge. "Right?"

"She'll be fine," he said, but she frowned at his brisk tone. "She  _will_."

Webby would've felt better if she'd been able to go after her, but considering what had happened the last time she'd ventured out on her own, she didn't raise the subject. Her teeth chattered and Huey hugged her from behind. If she hadn't been aware that it was him, she would've thrown him over her shoulder.

"But will you be?" Scrooge asked in an undertone.

Webby's smile faltered. She didn't know, to be honest. Caught up in the moment, she'd almost forgotten Granny's death and her own abuse. Now that Scrooge had asked her, however, her skin prickled and she had to exercise restraint in not attacking Huey because she suddenly didn't want to be touched.

"I don't know," she said honestly. She offered Huey a weak smile. "Could you step back a little? I feel crowded."

"Okay...whatever you say," he said, though he looked confused and a little hurt.

"Thanks," she said. "Sorry."

"Just don't alienate the people who love you," Scrooge cautioned. Considering what he'd done right after the truth regarding the triplets' mother had come out, he ought to have firsthand knowledge of what happened when you pushed aside everyone who loved you and cared about you.

"I can't imagine what you're going through. I just want you to know we're all here for you."

She nodded and, to give herself something to do, took a bite out of the now cold omelet Huey had prepared. It had turned to sawdust in her mouth, but she chewed and forced a bigger smile anyway. She wasn't sure she was convincing anyone, though.

"It's getting late," Scrooge said. "Or  _is_  late at any rate. You should all go back to bed. You can clean up this mess later."

"I'm not tired," Louie lied and then concealed a yawn. Scrooge raised his eyebrows at him.

"All right, so I'm a little tired," he amended. "C'mon, let's go."

"Do you think you'll sleep all right by yourself?" Scrooge asked Webby earnestly.

Webby shrugged. "About as well as I did before."

That was to say, not very well at all. She was not relishing a return to the nightmares.

"We should stay with her," Huey protested.

She didn't know how to tell them 'no'. She wanted them there, yes, but she didn't want the reminder, either. They meant well. They loved her. And she loved them. And she trusted them not to hurt her-bearing in mind that she could easily hurt them, even without meaning to.

Her heart ached.

"I...I'll be okay if they don't want to," she said.

The triplets exchanged glances.

"We'll be right down the hall if you need us," Huey said after a minute of silent conferring. Sometimes, she thought that the triplets had telepathy and just didn't talk about it. That would be cool if she felt like investigating it. Suddenly, the rest of her good mood popped like a bubble and she was depressed again.

They headed back to sleep, Webby forcing a smile on her face though she wanted to shuffle her feet and hang her head. She even bade them good night in. a falsely jovial tone, though she doubted she'd sleep. Between the nightmares, she'd had before and Lena's disappearance on her behalf, not to mention everything that had happened recently hanging over her head, she wasn't sure she'd be able to sleep for a long time.


	3. The Kids Aren't Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby and Lena talk around what happened to Webby and the triplets demonstrate jealousy over the idea of Webby picking Lena over them, especially Louie and Dewey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little sad this isn't as popular as Mirror Mirror, but then again, I guess this is so much darker that it's not really inviting for casual fans? I don't know. 
> 
> I have this whole series written, so there. :P I'll still post it.

The goons were pinning her down again and she drew breath to scream, but nothing came out. She kicked and her legs wouldn't move. Her body didn't respond to any commands and she was powerless to prevent them from attacking her again and again. She could feel them within her and she screamed, curling into a ball and begging them to stop. She hated what she'd been reduced to, this pathetic child. Sobs choked her and she woke up, staring flat at the ceiling and feeling more exhausted than she'd been when she'd attempted sleep.

"Man, your dreams must be pretty intense," a familiar voice said and Webby turned toward it. Lena! The older girl was perched on the end of her bed and looked somber.

"You talk in your sleep," Lena continued and Webby froze.

"I already know what they did. They were bragging about it." There was a thinly disguised rage beneath her tone and Webby wondered what she'd done to them. Yet Lena's hands were clean (or could she have washed them?) and although the teenager seemed ill at ease, she wasn't fidgeting like someone who had just committed murder.

"So, you know, then,” Webby said and her voice sounded flat and unemotional. “You know what they did to me.”

“Not all the lurid details, but yeah, I do,” Lena confirmed and Webby turned her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her friend right now. Maybe not ever. The thought that someone she cared about and loved knew what had happened to her, exactly what had happened, twisted her stomach. Scrooge probably had suspicions, but if he knew too? She didn’t know how she’d face him either.

“I guess you don’t want to be around me anymore, then,” Webby said and waved a hand at the door. “It’s okay. I understand. I don’t wanna be around me either.”

“The only reason they didn’t attack me the same way when I was your age was that Aunt Magica wouldn’t let them. Aunt Magica needed me alive to get her body back. It wasn’t some altruistic thing.”

Webby’s throat was tight and she didn’t trust herself to speak. Lena moved closer to her on the bed and Webby shifted position so she could fend her off. The idea was laughable--she wouldn’t really hit Lena--but she felt a little better knowing she could at least defend herself here.

“I’m not attacking you, Webby.”

“Why are you really here, then, huh?” she countered, feeling nauseated and full of vitriol. “Here to propagate Magica’s message again? To--”

Lena put a finger to Webby’s beak.

“If I were here to do that, I would have done it earlier, hours ago, rather than hugging you,” she pointed out. “And before you say it, it was not so you would lower your guard against me. You know why I’m here and why I came back.”

To Lena’s credit, her voice was gentle and intended to calm Webby’s shattered nerves.

“I found them so I could identify them and Scrooge can nab them later,” she said. “Then I returned here to check up on you.”

“I don’t need checking up on,” Webby huffed. She felt like her younger self, a girl wearing a pink dress and a pink bow. She’d worked so hard to eradicate that image of herself as a weakling and whiny. And she couldn’t push away the triplets, because they lived here. But Lena didn’t. Lena could be forced to the side.

“And you’re not having any problems sleeping, either,” Lena commented.

Webby folded her arms across her chest. “Since when do you ninja around McDuck Manor?”

“Scrooge knows I’m here,” she said. “He never went to bed.”

Webby’s stomach tied itself into further knots. Scrooge hadn’t slept because of her. On the plus side, she hadn’t known he cared that much about her. On the minus...she hadn’t really wanted this to be the reason why. She felt weak like this was her fault. She should have known better. She should have been able to protect herself.

“Oh.”

“You don’t want me to see you because you’re ashamed of what happened,” Lena said. “I get that. I understand where you’re coming from, even if I didn’t go through the same thing. You feel alone and you want to be alone because you’re scared and you hate yourself for it happening. I get all of that.”

Bitter tears burned the corners of her eyes. No, she’d done enough crying today. She swiped at her cheeks angrily and mentally reprimanded herself. She was Webbigail VanderQuack and she was not a hatchling to cry at the smallest provocation. If she had been, her granny would’ve been there to comfort her. Webby’s lower lip quivered and she gasped back a sob.

“Why are you staring at me?” Webby choked out.

“I don’t exactly have loads of experience with crying people,” Lena said, shifting uncomfortably. “You’re my first real friend and any time someone was crying around me, I found out the hard way not to get involved.”

“Just go away,” Webby said, turning away and burying her face in her pillow.

“You know, I kissed you for a reason,” Lena continued, ignoring her. “And it wasn’t to get kicked out of your room.”

“That was before you knew what happened,” she muttered.

“No, it wasn’t. I knew as soon as we found you what had happened,” Lena said and flinched. “Sorry. I’ve seen it enough times.”

“Why didn’t you try harder to stop me?”

“You were running pretty fast,” Lena said dryly. “And you really didn’t want to be caught.”

“This was probably why Granny didn’t want me out of the house,” Webby said in a broken voice. “She knew this would happen.”

“I doubt that was the reason specifically,” Lena said. She leaned forward and although Webby didn’t move closer to her, she also didn’t push her away. She was powerless to stop the tears slipping down her cheeks and kept her face buried in the pillow. It was easier to talk to her when she didn’t have to face her.

“What do you know?” she huffed, muffled thanks to the pillow. “Your aunt killed my grandmother.”

“I’m not disputing that,” she said and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll go. But maybe you ought to take something to sleep. I’m sure there’s a sleeping cordial around here. Otherwise, you’re just gonna keep having nightmares.”

“I know where Uncle Scrooge keeps them,” she muttered. Lena’s weight left the bed and Webby’s heart wrenched. She ought to tell her to come back. Instead, she watched Lena move toward the doorway. The older girl looked back once before disappearing from sight.

She huffed again and threw her pillow over her head. Even when she wasn’t sleeping, she could feel the thugs violating her. It was like the motion was stuck in her head on a loop. She wanted to scream. How were you supposed to get these things out and return to normal?

Throwing the pillow aside, she shuffled over to the door. Lena, to her surprise, was lingering in the hallway.

“I knew you’d come out.”

“I...I might’ve said some things that I shouldn’t have…” Webby admitted.

Lena shrugged. “Let’s go see your uncle.”

“You’re not upset?” she asked, surprised. She moved to Lena’s side and the two of them headed for Scrooge’s office.

“Compared to what I’ve been through, that was tame,” she said. “Besides, you didn’t really mean it.”

Webby resisted the urge to fidget while she walked. It was on the tip of her tongue to admit something embarrassing, like that she’d had a crush on Lena ever since they’d met. Between the lack of sleep and tonight’s trauma, she wasn’t sure how well she could curb her tongue.

“You know…” Webby said and cursed herself. So much for resisting impulses. “I’ve kinda had a crush on you for ages now.”

“I know,” Lena said and smiled. “You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“How long have you known?” she asked.

“Since we met,” she said. “Like I said, you’re not subtle.”

“And you still want to hang around me? Even after what happened? And this? And, you know, the whole your aunt killed my granny thing?”

“I’m not Aunt Magica and you’re not Mrs. Beakley,” Lena pointed out. “And I’d never hold it against you something that wasn’t your fault.”

“Did you mean to kiss me earlier? Or was that an accident?”

“Do you mean did I mean to lean over and kiss you on the cheek in front of three boys who are doubtlessly planning to tease you unmercifully in the morning, if one or more aren’t jealous?” Lena asked and raised her eyebrows. “Are you asking if I tripped and fell on your cheek with my beak?”

“When you put it that way, it sounds kinda silly,” she admitted, blushing.

“You’ve never been kissed before, have you? No, wait. You haven’t even had a hamburger. There’s no way you’ve been kissed before.”

Webby folded her arms across her chest again. “I’ll have you know that I was just waiting for someone to kiss me.”

“So you were waiting for me?” Lena countered.

“Yes. No. I mean, maybe. I mean...argh!” she said.

Lena was still smiling and Webby glared. Still, she couldn’t maintain the irritation and her expression melted back into her normal, calm one. She’d forgotten again what she was so upset about. How was that possible? How did Lena do that?

They arrived at the door and Lena knocked. Uncle Scrooge bade them enter and seemed unsurprised to see Webby still awake. He patted the chairs in front of his desk.

“I assume you went to see Webby before coming to see me,” Scrooge said.

Lena shrugged. “She was having nightmares.”

Webby huffed. The sensations behind the nightmares lingered and she clamped her beak shut on another scream. How was it possible that hours later, she could still feel them moving inside of her?

“It’s okay, lass,” Scrooge said, bringing her attention to him although she felt like she wasn’t all there. It felt like she’d been disconnected from her body and she was floating somewhere in space.

“They’re hiding out in the abandoned subway tunnels beneath the town,” Lena said, looking at Webby with a frown. “Webby?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice felt like it was coming from somewhere else.

“Maybe you ought to go watch some TV. That might take your mind off things,” Uncle Scrooge suggested.

“I’m fine,” she huffed.

Lena frowned but didn’t press the matter. Thankfully, Scrooge didn’t either, but he looked concerned.

“Think they’ll be down there a while?”

“That’s where their base seems to be, yeah,” Lena agreed.

“Then I’ll see what I can do about them,” he said and his expression turned dark. His eyes flashed with anger and hatred and Webby was distantly alarmed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Uncle Scrooge that furious. It was alarming.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I have work to do. Calls to make. I’ll speak to you two later.”

Webby followed Lena out while feeling the same depersonalization she’d had before. It was kinda nice in a way. It was like floating on air, except not quite. She led Lena to the TV room and let her pick something to watch. At least in this state, she couldn’t feel connected to what had happened. It had all happened to someone else, someone far, far away.

\----

Lena fell asleep before Webby did. Webby stared at the TV screen for hours without really seeing anything. If she pinched herself, it hurt, which was weird when she didn’t feel connected to her body. She wished she could’ve done this earlier when they’d attacked her at gunpoint.

What bugged her too was that if it had been anything else, like knives, she could’ve fought it off. She’d dealt with a woman with a sword before. True, the odds had been in her favor, along with Huey, Louie, and Launchpad. It’d been three against four. This time, it’d only been her and four armed assailants. But even so...she should’ve been able to do something.

She banged her head lightly against the back of the sofa. She didn’t want to wake Lena. All of that training and it all flew out the window. Yeah, okay, so she’d managed to nearly unman someone and had probably broken a very important part of his body. And yeah, she’d gotten a few licks in too. But they’d still violated her. She balled her fists and huffed, wishing she could do something, anything, just to get it out of her head for five minutes.

She left Lena alone and drifted through the house. Fatigued but too tired to sleep, she dragged her feet. She was sure if Scrooge or any of the others knew she was awake, they’d order her to sleep. Well, maybe not Launchpad. She wasn’t even sure where he slept if he didn’t have his own pad.

What she could really use was her grandmother. Webby sighed, sinking to her knees and balling a fist against her thigh. She wasn’t going to get what she needed, though. Maybe if she could just pass out for a few hours, that’d be acceptable.

She doubted she’d get that either.

\----

“Webby?” Huey asked, waving a hand in front of her face. “Uh, Webs?”

“Weird,” Louie said. “It’s like she sees us but there’s nothing going on in there.”

“You okay?” Dewey asked.

“She’s just staring at the wall,” Huey remarked. “What happened after we went to bed?”

“It doesn’t look like she did,” Louie observed. “She looks like she’s been up all night and frozen in that position.”

“1942!” Webby cried and then bolted upright, staring around her in alarm. “What? Where am I? What’s going on?”

“You fell asleep with your eyes open?” Louie exclaimed. “How is that even possible?”

“Can’t...relax my guard…” Webby gasped. “What if something else happens?”

“The only thing that’s going to happen is us taking you to your bed because you clearly need restful sleep,” Huey said.

“I had sleep,” she said defensively, but her voice was weak and drained.

“Uh huh,” Louie said, not buying it. “Then what’s 1942 about, huh?”

“Uh…” Webby faltered. “Hang on, it’ll come back to me.”

She yelped when the triplets grabbed her and hauled her back to her room. “C’mon, guys! I’m fine! I swear!”

“You’ll be fine once you get some sleep,” Huey said.

“I can’t sleep,” she protested. “It just keeps happening again and again when I fall asleep. You don’t know. You weren’t there. You didn’t feel them.”

“Hold up a sec,” Dewey said. “What exactly happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said, turning her head away.

“You can’t start a sentence like that and then not tell us,” Louie protested.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” she growled. “Scrooge knows and Lena knows and that’s two more people than I wanted to know in the first place!”

“You told Lena but not us?” Huey gasped.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Webby said, exhausted. “She found out when she tracked the Bloodhound Gang down. They were bragging about it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s different,” Huey said and frowned. “You know you can tell us anything, right? We’re your best friends.”

“Guys, I appreciate it, but...no, I can’t,” she said and sighed. “I’ll be okay. I can walk the rest of the way. You don’t have to keep following me around like I’ll fall apart.”

“If you say so…” Huey said, but he didn’t believe her. His brothers didn’t either. Webby lowered her head and let them guide her back to her room. Huey didn’t think she’d stay there long. Maybe they needed to post a guard. How could Lena know but not them? He felt betrayed by that, even if Lena had found out through bragging rather than from Webby.

And how could Webby not tell them? What was so painful that she had to keep it secret? She never kept secrets. She was normally so open and excited. Ever since Magica had attacked Mrs. Beakley, it was like the light had died in Webby’s eyes.

\----

They were reluctant to ask Uncle Scrooge what had happened with Webby. It had taken a while for things to resume any sense of normalcy after the Spear of Silene incident and no one wanted to rock the boat. The only other person to ask would’ve been Lena and so the teenager awoke to discover the triplets staring at her. She jumped, reaching for the amulet she no longer possessed, and her fingers twitched like she wanted to attack someone. Huey noticed that one of her hands had gone down to a blade strapped to her leg.

“Hey,” Huey said, putting his hands up, as did his brothers. “Calm down. We just wanted to ask a few questions.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed. “You want to know what happened to Webby.”

“Well, duh,” Louie said. “We also want to know why you’re still allowed in the manor, but we’ll start with the other thing first.”

“I’m still Webby’s friend,” Lena said and her eyes flashed. “That’s for starters. And to answer your second non-question, I’m not telling you because it’s not my secret to tell. It’s Webby’s. And if she doesn’t want to tell you, then she has a right to keep it to herself.”

“At least tell us what the Bloodhound Gang said,” Louie snapped.

“No,” Lena retorted, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m not saying anything. You can ask all you want, but I’m not responding.”

“What about a hint?” Dewey asked and Lena’s eyes flashed again warningly. She jumped to her feet and if looks could kill, the middle triplet would’ve been incinerated. Huey could literally feel the rage coming off her and he stepped back, apprehensive.

“Here’s a hint,” she snapped back. “Stop asking.”

“If something happened to us, we’d tell Webby,” Louie protested.

“Not if something like this happened,” Lena countered.

“How would we know if you won’t tell us?” Louie retorted.

“Guys,” Huey said. “Leave it alone for now.”

“No,” Louie huffed. “I want to know what she knows that we’re not allowed to.”

Lena’s gaze seared through them and Dewey likewise took a step back. Huey really thought they ought to let the matter drop, at least for now. It was clear Lena was disinclined to tell them anything and after the debacle with Scrooge, creating more rifts wasn’t a great idea. They were lucky to be back in the manor after everything that had happened.

Yet Louie persisted. He met Lena’s glare head-on.

“Why did you kiss her?” Louie asked, a pained note in his voice.

Lena shrugged; the rage remained simmering in her gaze, but she played it off like it was nothing. “Don’t you normally kiss girls you like?”

Whatever she expected, it wasn’t the explosion that came next. The triplets started talking all at once, talking over each other, and, admittedly, making it impossible to follow who was saying what in what order.

“--you think you can just waltz right in here and steal Webby’s heart--”

“--what gives you the right--”

“--she doesn’t even like you like that!”

Lena raised her eyebrows. “That’s for Webby to decide, isn’t it? Not you three.”

“You’re not even--you don’t even live here!” Louie huffed, outraged. “And we saw her first. If anything, you should be saying this to us.”

“I was right,” Lena said with a tight smile. “You do have a crush on her.”

Louie didn’t answer. He only glared. Huey’s heart clenched painfully. This conversation was headed downhill at an alarming rate. He held up his hands again to forestall further argument; Louie bit off whatever else he intended to say.

“It was something bad, wasn’t it?” Dewey said quietly, returning Lena’s attention to him. “We saw the blood and her tattered clothes. And you and Uncle Scrooge won’t talk about it, which means it’s something we’re not supposed to know about.”

Lena’s face softened slightly. “That’s right. Look, I know you’re all worried and concerned about Webby, but I’m not telling you anything. And I had every right to kiss her.”

“No, you didn’t!” Louie began hotly and Huey elbowed him in the ribs.

“You could’ve asked,” Dewey muttered.

“Right,” she said. “Well, if Webby’s asleep and you three are going to give me 20 Questions, I’m going to take off.”

“Where do you go?” Huey asked, curious. “When you’re not here, I mean.”

Lena shrugged. “I have a place.”

Her tone invited no further questions and Huey didn’t pursue the line of questioning. Louie and Dewey were still glaring at her as she left the room. Huey wasn’t sure how he felt about Lena kissing Webby. He felt protective over Webby, especially considering what she’d been through before this had hit the fan. More than anything, he didn’t want to see her hurt. But he didn’t have the same feelings for Webby that his brothers had. His was more the brotherly instinct than a romantic one.

“So...how long have you had a crush on Webby?” Louie asked in a would-be casual voice.

“How long have you had a crush on Webby?” Dewey countered.

Huey facepalmed. “I’m going to go set up the video games. You guys are welcome to keep arguing or you can play games. Your choice.”

It still left him with the same question, though. What was so bad that no one wanted to say it? Webby hadn’t died, not like their mom and Mrs. Beakley. So, what was worse than death?


	4. My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magica sets her plans in motion, including tormenting her enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a long chapter this week. Also, the things that Webby dreams about, where Magica blames her for what happened to her? I get those dreams too. PTSD is fun, isn’t it? /sarcasm

Her niece was a traitor. She didn’t know why she expected any better when Lena had always been an ingrate. Hell, she’d protected her when Poe had gone missing. Okay, so Poe’s disappearance was technically Magica’s fault, but who was counting? For Lena to have turned on her, after everything Magica had done for her, was an injustice and Magica intended to have that remedied. 

 

As a raven, albeit a shadowy one, she perched atop the McDuck Manor gate. She needed the power within Scrooge’s number one dime to restore her, again, to her true self. What she hadn’t mentioned, however, was that blood magic had its own powers. By killing Mrs. Beakley, Magica had a power source to draw upon at will. It had just taken a while to be able to use it because she’d been beaten back by Scrooge and his great-nephews, not to mention Lena. Feh. Spoiled little girl.

 

She’d repay the favor as soon as she had a corporeal form again. To do that, she should hang around here and soak up Webby’s misery. In addition to blood magic, emotional trauma carried weight and it seemed like the little girl had it in spades. Magica cackled, flying over to Webby’s window to poke her head in at the fast asleep duckling.

 

Webby was whimpering in her sleep and Magica felt a fresh surge of hatred for her. Lena had left her for this pathetic whelp? Still, there seemed to be a new note to her misery and Magica glided into the room to get closer to the source. Webby tossed and turned, fighting in her sleep against an enemy she’d already lost to, judging by her whispered pleas and entreaties. 

 

That was interesting. Magica cocked her head and smirked. Tell me more, child.

 

_Now tell me all about your pain, down to the detail._  
Don’t say it’s love.  
Your fragile heart breeds my contempt. 

 

What was odd was that Magica’s sense of Lena told her that her niece wasn’t here. After having spent so long as Lena’s literal shadow, Magica knew her niece’s magical signature and the power she possessed. It lingered here, in this room, as Magica had suspected, but it had also left the manor. Magica lingered for the moment, soaking up and reveling in Webby’s pain.

 

 _Sleep well, sweet dreams, little brat,_ she thought, cackling again. Webby moaned, eyelids fluttering, and Magica waited to see whether she’d wake. Despite another whimper and curling up tighter, the girl remained asleep. Whatever held her in its grip had a tight hold on her. 

 

If she had her full powers, she would’ve been able to probe Webby’s mind and drag out the details. But she knew who would know if she could get close to him without him realizing she was there. 

 

What was she saying? Of course she could. Scrooge McDuck was oblivious to her unless someone pointed her out. Blowing Webby a mocking kiss, she took off, propelling herself around the manor toward the other side. Everyone felt Mrs. Beakley’s loss in different ways, even if Webby’s was the keenest. It certainly gave her ample material to work with. Unfortunately, she’d need a pawn or a corporeal state to steal the dime, but first things first. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

 

Approaching Scrooge’s office, she expected to sail through an open window. She didn’t. Instead, she passed through a closed one and she shuddered. She hated being reminded she was a shadow. Still, with the grief around here, her power was growing all the time.

 

“I’m tracking them down myself,” Scrooge barked and Donald Duck gave him a skeptical look. Magica’s interest piqued. 

 

“You could let the police handle it,” Donald reprimanded.

 

“Do you know how long that would take?” Scrooge objected. “They’d get one whiff of the cops and then they’d run.”

 

“They’re dangerous. You said so yourself.”

 

“Aye, I did,” he said and then grimaced. “I owe Webbigail for throwing her out of my life and her grandmother for protecting her until the end.”

 

Donald frowned at that. Magica preened her feathers, such as they were in that form and pretended she didn’t have a keen interest in this conversation.

 

“You always go in there without thinking about what could happen,” Donald protested.

 

“I’m not bringing the kids this time,” he said grimly. “Not even Lena. The lass has suffered enough.”

 

Donald faltered. Clearly, he hadn’t expected this argument. Slowly, the younger duck nodded. He left Scrooge’s office and Scrooge turned to the window. Through the sunlight beaming through it, she was scarcely visible. Or, at least, so she thought until the older duck rounded on her.

 

“You have some nerve showing your beak around here, Magica,” he spat. “You know you’re not welcome here or anywhere in my vicinity.”

 

“You wound me, Scroogie,” Magica retorted. “I am only here to observe, not to cause further pain.”

 

“As if you could,” he scoffed. “Shoo!”

 

He waved at her and, rather than tell him that his misery was amplifying her magic, she took off, letting him think he’d won for the moment. Stupid duck. She had no intention of backing off. While the number one dime remained a priority due to the power imbued within, she would have to settle for something more mundane to make her come back. Again. Physical forms were encumbrances. 

 

She drifted on, wishing she could wring Lena’s neck. It took a little ingenuity to locate her niece, as she’d gone off the radar again. This time, she’d hunkered down in an underground storage room. Drab and cold, it was unappealing and Magica scoffed. She was not impressed. 

 

“Aunt Magica?” Lena said and whirled around, hand on a new friendship bracelet Webby must’ve made her. Magica hissed at the sight. 

 

She could possess Lena again, but that trick had only worked once. And it had only worked because Lena had permitted her access to her body in a moment of folly. Twice was out of the question. She circled her niece and swallowed her loathing. The friendship bracelet...that had potential. It was imbued with Lena’s feelings for Webby and it would be ironic indeed to use that to restore her to her former glory.

 

Her physical body lay locked up in a prison in Duckberg, but no mere bars could restrain Magica de Spell. As soon as she had a binding agent, she would awaken and wreak havoc on the fools who had thought to capture her. She circled the bracelet and drew upon Webby’s misery, as well as Lena’s own hatred for her aunt. The more they thought of her, the more powerful she grew. 

 

“Get away from me!” Lena hissed. “Not again!”

 

“Did you really think you were doing anything more than delaying the inevitable?” Magica countered. Yes...she could feel the bracelet’s strength. It was only working because Webby’s thoughts were now linked to Magica and Lena’s loathing of Magica had increased exponentially since seeing Webby’s unhappiness. She winked at her niece.

 

She’d be back. There were a few things she had to put in order before restoring herself, but she thought she could manage it soon. The sooner, the better. Lena had to pay. And simply living in subpar arrangements was not what Magica had in mind.

 

She sneered at Lena before dispersing through the underground. As she did, she paused, hearing bragging. The Bloodhound Gang was tormenting the Beagle Boys with how much better they were at handling crime without bungling things and how they could wound Scrooge without ever touching him. Curious, Magica advanced. What did they propose to do? 

 

Once she heard, she cackled, startling the two groups. No wonder Webby was so distraught. Someone had dared to lay a hand on Scrooge’s precious great-niece. Moreover, it was because of Magica’s actions that Webby had darted out into dangerous territory. Oh, she loved this turn of events. This was the best of all possible outcomes.

 

She could lay low and play dumb for a few days. Afterward, she had plans for the Bloodhound Gang. If they could capture Webby once, they could do so again. And this time, they could really injure Scrooge. Short of killing the girl, torture would work wonders. And it’d bring Lena running. 

 

Of course, Webby was not without defenses of her own. Magica was well aware that the only reason the Gang had gotten the drop on her was that she’d been unarmed. Had it been a fair fight, Webby would’ve demolished them. Good thing Magica didn’t believe in fair fights.

 

Any advantage she had, she intended to use to its fullest. And even if everyone’s guard was up, they couldn’t defend against attacks on all sides. Now...she needed to figure out how to manipulate the brats and divide Scrooge’s attention. Divide and conquer.

 

She cackled again, ascending to the surface. She’d better not get ahead of herself, however. She had planning to do.

 

\----

 

Launchpad was relaxing and watching his favorite TV show, Darkwing Duck. It was weird, but he always felt like they belonged together somehow. When he was watching it, he felt like he was really at Darkwing’s side fighting bad guys and flying the Darkwing ‘copter. Part of him recognized this as hero worship, but he didn’t really care. He loved Darkwing.

 

How awesome would it have been to meet Jim Starling? Launchpad could barely imagine it. The thought excited him to no end. And for there to be a real Darkwing Duck...he’d probably hyperventilate, he’d be that enthralled. 

 

He had a vague idea of what had happened to Webby last night and wondered if someone like Darkwing could help clean up Duckberg. With Gizmoduck’s help, of course. Launchpad nodded to himself. Yes, Darkwing would be just the guy for it. 

 

If only he existed…

\-----

A week passed, in which Webby got little to no sleep and Scrooge was on the warpath. As he had suspected, someone had already gotten to the Bloodhound Gang and despite his and Lena’s best efforts, he was unable to locate them. Webby had already suffered without her grandmother and coupled with her attack, she was faring poorly. The boys were beside themselves with worry and somehow, Scrooge was equating this with his failure to protect Della. Again, he’d failed to protect someone he cared about and this time, it wasn’t like she was an adult who’d made her own choices. Webby had reacted to stress badly and someone had taken advantage of that.

Without Mrs. Beakley preaching caution and with Donald only telling him to be careful, Scrooge found himself frustrated. He needed to get Webbigail a therapist. Scrooge didn’t hold with such nonsense, but he was genuinely concerned about how much Webby was withdrawing. She wasn’t behaving at all like her normal self and if it hadn’t been for Lena’s appearances, she might have withdrawn into a shell completely. The boys weren’t having much luck drawing her out, to their frustration. 

Where the hell was the Bloodhound Gang holing up that he couldn’t find them, even with his best trackers on the case? Money couldn’t solve everything, as he’d learned the hard way when he’d lost Della. But he refused to believe that someone who had done such grievous harm to a young girl could escape without any repercussions. It was galling.

But while he stewed over his inability to exact vengeance for Webby’s suffering, Magica was otherwise occupied. She’d regained her corporeal form, albeit with a few snags. She’d turned green, for one thing. She had also lost her chest, but that was a trifle. All in all, she was satisfied, given that she blew up her cell bars and then waltzed out, killing the guards before they could raise the alarm and then sequestering herself in the underground area in Duckberg to prevent a manhunt.

She was glad to see that Lena was growing desperate to reach Webby and that she’d managed to snag the Bloodhound Gang out from under Scrooge’s beak. She had resources too, after all, and the means to protect her investments. Now, however, she needed to be careful. She still hadn’t made up her mind how to divide and conquer, only that it was necessary. She needed to find something that would utterly distract the brats and leave Webby vulnerable so that Lena would come crawling back to her.

For that, she’d need to know the triplets’ weaknesses. She’d have to spend more time around the manor, provided Scrooge didn’t notice her presence. Scrooge was such an irritating old codger. She wanted to wring his neck too. (Yet a part of her was glad he was alive, because what would life be like without a good enemy?) 

Jim Starling had come to Duckberg and was signing autographs, but his attention had been drawn to an orphan girl named Gosalyn…  
\---

 

Webby woke up from the fifth nightmare in a row with her chest burning and her grandmother’s demise, this time as solely Webby’s fault, seared into her mind. She felt arms around her and she struggled, trying to fight whoever it was off because like hell did she want to be touched right now. Someone fell off the bed and groaned, a sound that was very familiar and jolted Webby out of her nightmare entirely.

“Ow! All I did was hug you!” Louie said. “What gives, Webby?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, abashed. “I thought you were trying to attack me.”

“Attack you with affection, maybe!” Louie retorted.

“I’m sorry, okay?” she said and her lower lip quivered. She fought the temptation to cry. “I’m not sleeping very well. You can come back on the bed.”

“I know you’re not sleeping well. The whole house knows you’re not sleeping well,” Louie countered, but his tone was gentle and he laid his hand on hers. “I came to check on you.”

“You alone? What about Dewey and Huey?” she said, looking about for the other boys but seeing no one.

“Eh, they’re not with me all the time,” Louie said, shrugging. “What was the nightmare about? Can you tell me?”

“It was about Granny,” she said, looking aside. “I keep dreaming she dies in different ways and somehow, it’s always my fault. There’s always something I should’ve done to stop it or a shot I should’ve taken or something else I could’ve prevented.”

“There was nothing you could’ve done,” Louie said and scooted closer to her on the bed so that their legs were touching. “You know that.”

“For all her training…” Webby swallowed against a lump in her throat. “You know what’s weird? It feels like these nightmares have gotten worse in the last few days. I’m probably being paranoid, but normally, there’s at least a decent dream to nightmare ratio. Now it’s all nightmares and they feel very personal.”

“Aren’t nightmares normally personal?” he asked and she smiled weakly.

“I mean...I get the feeling that we’re being watched,” she said.

“Scrooge does have security cameras, but I don’t think they’re in our bedrooms,” he said. “Or are they?”

He cocked his head to scan her room and she sighed.

“That’s not what I meant. But anyway, this is going to sound stupid…” she said and he gazed at her intently. “I might be able to sleep better if someone stayed with me. I had nightmares before, but they were fewer. Will you stay?”

She looked up at him and Louie gazed at her earnestly. She could feel her heartbeat skitter around in her chest. 

“Of course I’ll stay,” he said. And then, to cover up what he’d said, he added, “It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyway.”

“Of course not,” she agreed and punched him gently on the shoulder. That was a thing boys did, right? He smiled at her and, to her surprise, he curled up next to her on the bed. She moved a little closer, so he could hold her if he wanted. She realized this might not be the best idea, but she was too tired to care. 

“G’night, Louie,” she said, yawning.

“G’night, Webby,” he said and then, just before she fell asleep, she could have sworn she heard him say, “Take that, Lena.”  
\----

 

Magica hissed. The brat had shacked up with the other brat, but no matter. She could target both of them with her nightmare fuel. Still, she was irritated that Webby was deriving comfort from Louie. The boy had wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. She wanted her miserable, damn it. This was not the look of an unhappy child. Webby’s features had relaxed into normal dreaming and Magica couldn’t abide it.

She growled, wondering at what point she ought to intervene and cut the happy-fest short. Webby turned around in Louie’s arms and snuggled closer to him. If Magica had had any maternal instincts, she might have been tempted to leave them be. Webby looked so content, it was sickening.

Magica knew this was the first uninterrupted sleep Webby had had in two weeks. She also knew it was the first time that the girl had felt secure in her environment. She could torment Lena with this news, although Lena was unlikely to believe it, considering the source. Or she might wave it off. No, Magica needed to nip this in the bud. Webby needed to be off her game and ripe for the taking.

She closed her eyes and whispered a few choice words under her breath. A vague, shapeless shadow drifted from between her hands and split into two, heading for the two slumbering children. With her shadows directing their dreams, she ought to see what Louie feared. In fact, this might be the opportunity she’d been waiting for. Having insight into the brats’ terrors was a way to implement her plan.

Which child to follow first? She knew Webby’s fears, though she soaked them up eagerly. Webby whimpered, the nightmare starting again. Louie’s arms tightened in response and Magica snickered to herself, wondering if Webby would hit him again.

Seeing as she knew nothing about the brats, she decided to drop into Louie’s nightmare first. 

_“It’s_ your _fault Della left,” Scrooge growled. “She couldn’t handle the pressure of having you three.”_

_“How can you say that?” Louie protested. “You said she loved her family.”_

_“I didn’t say she wanted children,” Scrooge spat. They were standing in what to Louie was familiar, though Magica didn’t recognize the ship surrounding them. It was teetering back and forth as if it were stuck on a precipice. Magica ignored that._

_“As for your father, as soon as he found out Della was pregnant, he bailed,” Scrooge said dismissively._

_“No one wanted you brats besides your Uncle Donald and to be honest, he only took you because no one else would.”_

_“That’s not true!” Louie cried. “Uncle Donald loves us! And...and you said you did everything to bring Mom back! You’re lying!”_

_“I’m not lying,” Scrooge hissed. “You three have been nothing but trouble ever since you hatched. You should never have come back.”_

_Louie trembled, the effort of holding back tears making his throat tight. Webby wasn’t here, which was odd because he knew she’d been here originally. His brothers weren’t looking at him either, making him feel isolated. Scrooge’s ire seemed reserved for Louie in particular and he wasn’t sure why he’d been singled out._

_“You needed us!” Louie objected, hating how weak his voice was. “You needed us to help defeat Magica. And you apologized to us and you said you were lashing out because you were afraid of losing us, so you pushed us away before you could.”_

_“Bah, and you believed that? You’re a bigger sucker than I thought you were, lad,” Scrooge sneered. He slammed his cane down on the floor and Louie jumped. There was a cold, cruel gleam in Scrooge’s eyes, one that sent chills down Louie’s spine._

_“I’m not a sucker,” he whispered. “You’re lying. You don’t mean any of this.”_

_“Della left the week you three hatched,” Scrooge growled. “She knew you were about to be born and she chose to leave because she’d rather do that than raise you three whelps.”_

_“You’re wrong,” Louie said, but his tone lacked conviction. “Mom loved her family. Mom loved us. She didn’t abandon us.”_

_“No?” Scrooge retorted and Huey and Dewey were gone. He looked around for them, but they were nowhere to be seen. Now he really was alone. His lower lip quivered._

_“Seems a bit coincidental that she left when she did, then. Almost like she knew and deliberately missed your hatching.”_

_“She didn’t know. She couldn’t have known,” he retorted. His heart thudded dully in his chest. He looked around, frantic for someone or something to save him. Even Launchpad and Mrs. Beakley were gone._

_Scrooge rounded on him and there was nothing remotely affectionate in his gaze. It was searing hatred, the same as he’d seen on his face right after they’d rescued Webby. It had frightened him then and it unnerved him now._

_“Get out of my sight, lad,” he growled. “I’m sick of your face. I’m sick of you and everyone else in this family. GET OUT!”_

__Louie awoke with a gasp, unable to suppress the tears that choked him. He hugged Webby to him; the other duckling was having a nightmare too. She was whimpering and kept trying to protect herself to no avail.

“Webs…” he whispered. “Webby, wake up.”

Magica smirked. “She won’t wake, brat.”

Louie whirled, sitting upright but still holding Webby to him, almost like she was a shield. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“How do I usually get in?” she sneered. “Your lack of security is appalling. And she won’t wake, not until I let her.”

“You _let_ her?” he repeated. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “You’re the reason I just had that nightmare.”

“Bingo. And after a dream like that, can you really trust Scrooge?” she sneered. “He kept the secret of Della for so long. And as for your uncle Donald? He only took you because he felt guilty. Or do you really think that anyone cares for you three brats? You’re just worthless orphans.”

“Uncle Donald cares!” Louie retorted. He was shaking and clinging to Webby.

“Uncle Donald loves us!”

“Or does he?” she taunted and then, without another word, launched herself into Webby’s nightmare.

\----  
_Webby’s chest ached and she watched her grandmother fall slowly, painfully. The look of surprise on her grandmother’s face broke Webby’s heart. She’d flung herself in front of Webby to defend her against Magica’s attack and perished for it. Yet, unlike in real life, Mrs. Beakley turned toward her. Her features remained locked, but her voice issued from her gaping mouth._

_“You killed me.”_

_“No,” Webby breathed, stepping back. Whereas in real life, the triplets, Donald, and Scrooge had been there, she was alone. “No, it’s not my fault. Magica did this.”_

_“You killed me.”_

_“No!” Webby cried. “You jumped in front of me to save me. I couldn’t have done anything. I couldn’t…”_

_She swallowed back sobs. She wrung her hands and forced herself to calm enough to respond. It was hard, when her vision swam with tears and all she could see was her grandmother, frozen in the moment of death. Webby couldn’t wrench her gaze away._

_“If you hadn’t been so obsessed with Scrooge McDuck, this would never have happened. Magica would’ve left us alone if we hadn’t inserted ourselves into his life like this. You killed me.”_

_“You chose to work for him!” Webby retorted, struggling to maintain composure. “It’s not my fault!”_

_“Yes, it is,” Mrs. Beakley said, implacable and unmoved. “I should’ve known when your parents foisted you off on me that you’d be nothing but trouble.”_

_Webby balled her fists in her skirt. “This isn’t you. This is a nightmare. You’d never say this to me. I know my granny.”_

_“Do you, child?” Magica taunted, drifting closer. “Are you glad she’s dead? She was always holding you back, you know. She was overprotective and never let you make friends your own age.”_

_“She was protecting me and she did a good job until I messed it up,” Webby said, lower lip quivering but refusing to cry. Not again. “You. You’re behind this.”_

_Magica laughed, shrugging at her. She propped Mrs. Beakley up and although Webby knew this was a nightmare, she retreated a step when her grandmother spoke again._

_“You wouldn’t be having this dream if you didn’t believe it was true,” she said. “You killed me. You killed me, Webbigail. **You killed me.** ”_

_“No!” she cried. “You had a choice!”_

_“You weren’t even worth protecting. The minute I die and leave you, you go and get yourself raped.”_

_Webby froze. She knew this was a nightmare, true, and she very much wanted to wake up now. This time, the sobs threatened to erupt and Mrs. Beakley rounded on her. The foyer disappeared and Mrs. Beakley pushed Webby against the wall. Magica was lurking behind, her eyes gleaming with hatred._

_“You brought it on yourself. You deserved it for being willful and disobedient. It was your fault. If you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been attacked. If you hadn’t let them touch you…”_

_“I didn’t let them do anything!” she protested, her voice a weak, tremulous thing. “Granny, I **fought**. I didn’t lie down and take it...Magica...stop…”_

_Magica laughed. “You’re weak, brat. You’re weak and no amount of training will fix what’s wrong with you. They saw you, the real you, and they knew you were ripe for the taking. You. Deserved. It.”_

_She waved her hands and the Bloodhound Gang appeared, as well as Huey, Dewey, Louie, Scrooge, and Lena. They joined Mrs. Beakley and chanted, “You deserved it! You deserved it! You deserved it!”_

_“NO!”_

Magica had seen enough. A cruel smile curving her lips, she took her leave.  
\----

Webby screamed, waking again and sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. She felt someone hug her, but a flash of green in the side of her vision told her it was Louie. 

“It’s Magica,” he said, hugging her tightly. “She’s giving us nightmares. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t true. Breathe, Webs.”

Her lower lip quivered and she worked on mastering herself. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t deserved it. She hadn’t done this to herself. Magica was wrong. No one deserved to be raped. And no one she loved would ever tell her that. They loved her. They wouldn’t hurt her. She swallowed another sob.  
However, just because she told herself that didn’t mean she believed it. She shuddered, clinging to Louie. 

“I hate her...I hate her…” she breathed.

“Shoosh, I know,” he said, stroking her hair. The door opened and Huey and Dewey entered. 

“Sorry…” she gasped, trying to still her sobs. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You woke the whole house up,” Huey said and frowned. “Both of you. What the heck is going on?”

“Magica was here,” Louie said, taking over for Webby. “She’s been giving us nightmares. She’s up to something.”

“I thought we were going to talk before you did something like this,” Dewey said, giving Louie a dirty look. 

“You snooze, you lose,” Louie said. “You want her, you gotta fight for her.”

She chose to ignore that. She clamped her beak shut on further whimpering and clenched the blanket, releasing it only when she thought she could speak without crying. 

“We didn’t destroy her like we thought,” Webby said. “She’s back.”

She clamped her beak down on another sob and added, “She’s here to hurt me because I turned Lena against her.”

“That doesn’t explain my nightmare,” Louie said.

“Or ours,” Huey replied. “Everyone in this house is having nightmares, Webs. She must want something  
else besides tormenting you.”

“You three are related to Scrooge, so you’re good pawns for her,” she said, ignoring their outrage at her statement. “And I’m the reason she lost Lena. But this can’t be the only thing she’s doing. Huey’s right.”

“We can’t wait for her to show her face,” Huey said and pounded a fist into his palm. “We need to take the fight to her.”

“How?” she asked. Magica’s taunts rang in her head. _You brought it on yourself. You. Deserved. It._

“Gimme a few hours,” Huey said. “I’ll come up with something.”

“In the meanwhile, we should try to get some sleep,” Louie said and shuddered. “Hopefully, dreamless this time.”

“All right, but I’m staying with Webby this time,” Dewey proclaimed, glowering at the youngest triplet. 

“I’m gonna get something to eat,” Louie said, shrugging, feigning nonchalance.

“Wait,” Webby said. “What did you dream about?”

“The Sunchaser,” was all Louie said before leaving. Webby gazed downward, thinking of the Spear of Silene incident. She was sorry she’d asked.

“That’s what we dreamt about too,” Huey said quietly, sitting beside Webby. “Maybe we should plot now and sleep later.”

She nodded. Doing something was better than ruminating on this debacle. She fingered her wrist, where the friendship bracelet had been before she’d given it to Lena. Lena. How was she doing?

And if Magica was doing this to them, what must she be planning for her niece?


	5. American Beauty/American Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scrooge grows increasingly frustrated by his inability to track the Bloodhound Gang down--Magica continues to plot on how to pay her niece and Webby back for thwarting her.
> 
> Meanwhile, a little bit of fluff with Lena and Webby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things: like I said in my notes in Mirror Mirror, I had a bad night last night and a worse day so far this morning. So I'm posting this because I want feedback and because I want to feel better about myself.
> 
> Two, I'm already writing the sequel to this, so it doesn't hurt to post more of this and try to get up to date.
> 
> Three, I feel Lena's depression and abuse on an emotional level. My dad can be abusive just like Magica, except he's not a magical shadow. >.>

She gleaned as much information about the triplets as she could in the next week. The Bloodhound Gang grew restive--they were disused to prolonged periods of inactivity and resented her refusing them marijuana. The alcohol she permitted, but pot gave her a dreadful headache. They were petty criminals, inclined toward thievery and other, unimaginative crimes. Evidently, attacking the girl was the most ambitious thing they’d ever done. It also might be the last thing they ever did, because Magica had been forced to move three times in the last week. Scrooge was scouring the underground, leaving no stone unturned in his search to rout out and punish the Gang. Even she, who maintained enmity toward him and considered him beneath her, was wary and unsettled.

 

She’d never seen Scrooge so enraged. The longer the search wore on, the angrier he became. He was turning into a berserker. Then again, this was by far the worst thing that had happened to his family, barring Della’s disappearance. In that, at least, she might’ve been partially culpable. Webby hadn’t deserved her fate, despite what Magica had told the girl.

 

The whole thing unnerved her in a different way, too. She did not like working with child rapists. They were the lowest of the low, normally scum such as she wouldn’t deign to acknowledge in the streets. What she had in mind for the girl was not more of the same, despite the Gang itching to get their hands on her again for that purpose. No, she wanted Webbigail tortured, in a public forum, as it would bring forth Scrooge and Lena. That friendship bracelet was like a thorn in Magica’s side.

 

It was a tricky proposition. If she did it somewhere that the cops (and Gizmoduck) patrolled, they’d shut her down before she had a chance to ensnare her targets. Right now, Mount Vesuvius would be out of Scrooge’s mind, so it’d have to be staged in Duckberg. Magica thought that the old theatre with its irony would be the perfect place to bring the girl. Between the Bloodhound Gang inflicting terror by their mere presence and the backdrop the location of her assault, the girl should be paralyzed with fear. If not, well, there were spells to handle that.

 

However, luring the girl from McDuck Manor proved to be the current and most looming problem. No one was willing to let her out of their sight. Scrooge had Gizmoduck and Gyro working overtime to patrol the manor and prevent egress by any unsavory characters. The Bloodhound Gang couldn’t stroll up to the gates, steal away the girl, and escape with no one the wiser. They’d probably be shot on sight.

 

She could shapeshift, but the difficulty with that lay in her voice. No matter how she effected the change, her voice remained the same. Thanks to her previous arrogance, which she now had cause to regret, everyone within the manor knew what she sounded like and, much to her irritation, her voice was singularly recognizable. No, she would need a stooge for this, and she’d need someone who could think on her feet.

 

The loss of Lena rankled again. Lena would have been the perfect pawn. She could have led Webby out and into danger, although...Lena would have balked at handing Webby straight to her attackers. So, no, maybe Lena wouldn’t have been perfect. Her body would have been, but Magica couldn’t inhabit it anymore.

 

That meant she had to scour the rogue’s gallery for an appropriate lackey. Oh, she hated hiring help. They never performed as advertised. She also had to contrive an excuse for Webby to leave, possibly bringing the triplets along because otherwise, the brats would grow very suspicious. Damn, she hated complications.

 

Nonetheless, she calmed herself and vowed she’d figure out a way to solve this quagmire. There had to be a solution, perhaps one so obvious she hadn’t thought of it yet.

 

Then it struck her. Della Duck. The triplets would leave the manor if they thought their mother had returned. It would be cruel to give them false hope, which satisfied her. Webby might be inclined to follow, but if not, she would have a stooge retrieve her.

 

Now...to look through the Yellow Pages for an appropriate henchman…

 

\----  
  
  
  
Scrooge was in a towering rage. They’d combed every inch of the underground and hadn’t turned up Magica or the Bloodhound Gang. It was Della all over again. Unable to vent his spleen on anyone, he stormed around his office and considered tracking them down himself. If you want a job done right…

 

Slamming his cane down, he stomped toward the door, flung it open, breathing hard, he considered his next few options. It was possible Lena was holding out on him, but he didn’t think she had anything to gain by withholding information. Moreover, she seemed genuinely concerned about Webby. And he could hardly shake Webby down for information. The poor girl was in a state already. She didn’t need Scrooge barking questions at her.

 

Lena wasn’t just their best lead, she was their only lead. Damn him, but he had no idea where the girl lived when she wasn’t visiting them. Webby didn’t know either and he huffed, wishing he could call Mrs. Beakley and demand to know whether Lena was visiting. Instead, he rushed toward Webby’s room, where he found her, the boys, and Lena engaged in a board game. Lena looked bored out of her skull and Louie had given up, lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling.

 

“Watching dust fall down is more exciting than this game,” Louie proclaimed.

 

“Lena? A word?” Scrooge growled and Webby startled. It was the most normal thing he’d seen her do in weeks, that board game, and he felt a twinge of guilt for disturbing her. Lena rose to her feet and when he moved his cane swiftly, to slam it against the floor again to emphasize his point, Lena winced.

 

He stopped, the girl’s fear penetrating his rage briefly.

 

“Lass, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

 

“Lena?” Webby said and Scrooge remembered that despite the incident a couple weeks ago, Webby was still innocent to physical abuse for the most part. His eyes narrowed at the teenager.

 

“Magica?” he asked and Lena didn’t meet his eyes.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging. She sprang to her feet and tossed her cards onto the floor. “I’ll be back.”

 

“Wait,” Webby said and jumped to her feet too. “I want to come too.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he demurred. “I want to talk to Lena about Magica and the Bloodhound Gang.”

 

Although Webby shuddered, she held her head high and met his gaze. He was impressed. He’d always known that the lassie had a spine of steel.

 

“I know more about the Bloodhound Gang than she does,” Webby said. “I can probably help you.”

 

“You can’t help me locate them, can you?” he asked and Webby shook her head. She cast her gaze downward and Scrooge stroked her head feathers.

 

To Lena, he said, “We’ve combed every inch of the underground, the old subway system, and anywhere else they might be hiding. We found the Beagle Boys, as well as a bunch of other lowlife scum. But we haven’t found Magica or the Bloodhound Gang. If you’re holding out on me, lass…”

 

“I really don’t know where they could’ve gone, okay?” Lena said and she swallowed hard. “I’d tell you if I knew, I swear.”

 

“That’s all well and good, lass, but I’m getting awful tired of the run-around,” he growled.

 

“Lena said she doesn’t know,” Webby said, grabbing her friend’s hand and squeezing it. “She’s trying to help as best she can.”

 

“Does Magica have anywhere else she might be? Anywhere she stayed in Duckberg?” he queried.

 

“How should I know? She’s been attached to me for my entire life,” she pointed out. “It’s not like she needed a hideout as a shadow.”

 

Scrooge slammed his cane down again, impatience and fury surging through him. He fixed Lena a hard look and Lena winced. Webby wrapped her arms around Lena and Scrooge noticed that Lena was wearing Webby’s friendship bracelet again.

 

“If I found out you’ve been protecting them…” Scrooge snarled. “You’ll be very sorry you ever came back here.”

 

“Why would I protect them?” Lena shot back. She was quivering too and her eyes flashed warningly. “I’d never protect Magica, not after what she put Webby through, never mind me. And what possible reason could I have for protecting child molesters?”

 

“C’mon, calm down,” Webby cajoled, looking from Lena to Scrooge and back. “Scrooge didn’t mean it. And Lena, I know you wouldn’t hide them.”

 

Her voice was tremulous and she squeezed Lena around the waist.

 

“I came back here because I care about Webby, okay?” Lena said and she seemed close to tears. “Webby is the only person since my father disappeared to show me any kindness at all. I love her. I’d never want to see her hurt. Even when Magica was manipulating me, the last thing I wanted was for Webby to be upset. I don’t care if you don’t believe me, but it’s true. All of it.

 

“I don’t know where Magica and the others are because Magica kept me away from villains like that. If Magica has a hide-out, I don’t know where it is. If you don’t want me around Webby, just say so and I’ll go.”

 

“No!” Webby cried, aghast. “No, Lena, don’t go! Please!”

 

Scrooge struggled to rein in his temper. Screaming at Lena had done nothing to further the investigation and had only agitated Webby further. Webby was hugging Lena so tightly he was surprised the other girl wasn’t complaining. He surveyed the two of them for a minute and although Lena’s lower lip quivered, she held his gaze. There was another girl with a spine of steel.

 

“All right, lass,” Scrooge said after a minute’s silence. “All right. I believe you. It’s just so damned frustrating not to be able to find her. And I have the feeling she won’t let us find her until she wants to be found.”

 

“That sounds like her all right,” Lena said weakly. She placed her hands atop Webby’s. Webby looked up at her and Scrooge saw more than friendly affection in her gaze. The girl was smitten.

 

“I’m going back to my office,” he announced and cast one last glance at the two girls. Wishing that had been more fruitful but aware that it could’ve gone much worse, he pounded back toward his hopeless endeavor. Maybe he’d be lucky and he could crack a few skulls soon, crack them open like melons.

 

\----  
  
  
  
Lena was trying not to cry. She was trying valiantly and she was failing. Webby guided her into another room, one she hadn’t been in recently, and shut the door behind them. It looked like a parlor of some sort and Lena’s gaze swam with tears, so she couldn’t really distinguish many details. At least the couch that Webby pushed her onto was soft.

 

“I’m sorry,” Lena whispered. She swallowed hard and offered Webby a weak smile. “I’ve been kinda on edge lately, what with Magica and the nightmares.”

 

“You too?” Webby said and plopped beside her. She squeezed her hand. “You’ve never mentioned your father before.”

 

“That’s because Aunt Magica turned him into a crow and then banished him from me,” Lena said dully. “I haven’t seen my dad in years.”

 

“Oh,” Webby said. She guessed that was a sensitive subject. Cupping Lena’s face in her hand, she turned it toward her. “I’m sorry. Scrooge is on edge too and I guess he was desperate.”

 

“And he needed a target,” Lena said. “I get it. I make a pretty good target.”

 

Webby’s heart twisted. “No, no, you don’t.”

 

“Sure I do,” Lena said and shrugged. “I mean, I’ve spent my whole life being a target for abuse. Why stop now?”

 

“Because I love you too, you beautiful fool,” Webby said softly and, feeling her heart pound, she leaned forward and kissed her on the beak. Lena did a double take, falling backward on the couch and Webby started laughing. It wasn’t really funny, just awkward, but it was still the funniest thing she’d encountered in the last few weeks.

 

Lena stared at her and then, to Webby’s relief, started laughing too. Soon they were both rolling around in laughter, probably tempered by the recent trauma. Webby curled up against Lena and smiled at her, which prompted the older girl to smile back, which caused them both to burst into peals of laughter again. Webby laughed until she had a hard time breathing and even then, she had to work on breathing again.

 

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry…” Webby gasped. “It’s just...when I pictured kissing you, your falling backward was not what I had in mind.”

 

“I never pictured you kissing me at all, so you’re one up on me,” Lena said and fought to regain her composure. A giggle snuck out. “Have you been practicing?”

 

“On pillows,” Webby admitted, blushing furiously. Lena snickered.

 

“Hey!” Webby objected. “It’s not like I had anything else to practice on!”

 

“You could’ve asked Louie or Dewey,” she said with an evil grin. “They would’ve been glad to help you practice your technique.”

 

“What? They don’t have crushes on me. Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed.

 

“They’ve been fighting over you worse since I came back into the picture,” Lena reminded her. “They’re not going to be happy that you chose me.”

 

“Who said I chose anyone?” Webby replied. “What’s a kiss between friends?”

 

“That was not a friendly kiss,” Lena shot back. “And you know it. A peck on the cheek is a friendly kiss. I’ll show you the difference.’

 

Lena leaned forward and this time, Webby didn’t sit there like a bump on a log. She met Lena head-on and kissed her back, clumsy but at least full of passion. Lena wrapped her arms around her and, with an effort, Lena pulled away long enough to add to what she’d said.

 

“See? There’s a difference,” she said with an impish grin. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

 

“I don’t know,” Webby said, sly. “I might need some more convincing.”


	6. Centuries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Scrooge go out looking for the Bloodhound Gang. Meanwhile, Magica bypasses what little security McDuck Manor has and kidnaps the kids.

It was a mark of how little restful sleep Webby had received in the last few weeks that she relaxed against Lena for two minutes and fell fast asleep. Lena smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. She didn’t sense Magica about, although her senses were alert to her. It’d be good for Webby to have a dreamless sleep or, at least, a pleasant one if not dreamless.

 

Lena found a throw blanket and pillows and tucked her in. Now that the younger girl was asleep, however, Lena’s thoughts drifted back to Scrooge. She understood his frustration, she shared it, but she hadn’t appreciated being the target of his ire. Yet she was also the only one who could move among the criminal element without difficulty. With the underground denizens being ousted, there had to be somewhere else they flocked to. Somewhere that Scrooge didn’t know about.

 

Terrible things would happen if they played into Magica’s hands. Lena didn’t delude herself into thinking that Magica was finished with the McDuck clan or Webby. Webby’s head was against her shoulder and she felt guilty because she was about to wander through Duckberg’s worst neighborhood and explore. Someone had to do it.

 

Webby should be safe enough in the manor.

 

She extricated herself from the younger girl, kissed her on the forehead, and left the room. She slid the door behind her closed, quietly enough so that it shouldn’t rouse Webby. To her consternation, Scrooge stood on the other side. Lena tensed.

 

"It’s time we go on a scavenger hunt, lass,” he said in an undertone. “Is she asleep?”

 

“Yeah,” Lena said. “And, no offense, but your usual method of travel and clothing isn’t going to cut it in the neighborhoods I’m thinking of.”

 

“I’ll change,” he said and his expression was stern. “What would they think if they saw an older man with a teenage girl?”

 

Lena grimaced. “That we have a business arrangement. An...understanding.”

 

Scrooge’s eyes narrowed and he raised his hand; Lena flinched, anticipating a blow that never came. Scrooge squeezed her shoulder.

 

“I’ve been rough on you, lass, and I’m sorry for that. I’ll go change and then you’ll show me where you think they could be holing up. I’m tired of waiting.”

 

Lena’s lips twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the best she could muster. “You and me both.”

 

It took Scrooge (and then Launchpad, because she guessed he wanted to look like a street tough) a good hour to get everything together. Webby remained asleep and Scrooge had reassured the boys that Webby was in need of a good nap. They promised they’d check in on her from time to time, although they also looked like they were in need of a good nap. Magica’s nightmares were wreaking havoc on everyone.

 

With some apprehension, she set out with Launchpad and Scrooge. She couldn’t help but feel they were leaving Webby defenseless, but Webby could defend herself, provided she wasn’t faced with guns and knives like she’d been before. (That part, at least, Webby had admitted to them). Nonetheless, she was uneasy as they left McDuck Manor behind and went to the seedier part of town.

 

\----  
  
  
  
“This is a welcome surprise,” Magica said. “I’m glad I didn’t hire those third-rate henchmen now.”

 

Webby groaned, wishing Magica would go away. She wasn’t quite awake and didn’t intend to return to consciousness. She reached out for Lena and came up short. This jolted her completely awake and Webby sprang to her feet after throwing the blanket aside.

 

“You!” she snapped.

 

“Yes, yes, me,” Magica said and rolled her eyes. “You’d think with all of my break-ins, Scrooge would install better security.”

 

“What do you want?” Webby asked, wary. “You’re obviously not here to give me more nightmares or you would’ve let me sleep.”

 

“Oh, no,” Magica said and smiled serenely. “I’m not here to give you nightmares. I’m here for more...pressing matters. If you would simply surrender and come with me, I’m sure we could reach an agreement.”

 

“You won’t get me without a fight,” Webby snapped, assuming a defensive position.

 

“Don’t be so sure, darling,” Magica said and snapped her fingers. Webby froze, her whole body paralyzed and fell over onto her face. Magica rolled her over and smirked down. Webby could barely breathe; it felt like a massive pressure was pushing on her chest. Only her eyes could move freely and they roamed the room to no avail. If the triplets were nearby, they were out of earshot and wherever Lena had gone, she wasn’t close either.

 

“Now, I’m sure you remember a certain theatre where you first met Lena’s acquaintance?” Magica sneered and punted Webby in the side. It stole her breath away, the kick being akin to having a door slam into her side, and she gasped for air. Her eyes filled with tears from the pain and she glowered back at the older woman, seeing as that was all she could do at the moment.

 

“Yes, yes, we’re all very impressed with your ability to stare me to death,” Magica said and stifled a yawn. “Let’s go.”

 

Before her eyes, Magica transformed into Della Duck. Webby hissed, unable to push the sound past her beak. Magica smirked, hoisting her up and into her arms like the very picture of motherhood. Webby wanted to struggle, to kick and fight her, but could still barely breathe, let alone engage her. This was like one of her worst nightmares come to life. Where was Magica taking her? She tried screaming in her head but to no avail. Unlike the triplets, there was no one who could understand she was in danger by thinking about it. They probably thought she was sleeping.

 

“Fortunately for you, I can do a reasonable impression of Della,” Magica continued and Webby’s loathing mounted. She could feel saliva gathering in her mouth, but couldn’t spit at her. She couldn’t do anything, which was the most frustrating thing.

 

To Webby’s astonishment, Magica didn’t sound a thing like her normal self. Whether she sounded like Della remained to be seen, as only Scrooge and Donald would’ve been able to tell. (She didn’t want to think about why Magica could mimick Della’s voice). It probably didn’t matter how authentic it was, since it wouldn’t have to stand up to close scrutiny. The boys would have no idea what their mother sounded like,

 

Scooping Webby up into her arms, she headed for the boys’ room. Without hesitation, she pushed the door open to discover the boys sleeping, Huey curled up on his pillow with the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook beside him on the pillow, Louie upside down and dangling off the bed, and Dewey in a small ball. Her heart ached seeing them and she screamed in her head for them to be on guard and wake up, not to trust “Della”.

 

The harder she tried to draw breath, the worse it became. It felt like someone was pressing a heavy weight onto her chest and she struggled to draw in air and expel it. She shuddered, straining, and Magica dumped her unceremoniously onto the boys’ table in the center of the room. Webby whimpered, an involuntary reaction to her bruised side colliding with the wood. Magica smirked and let Webby lie there before pushing her onto her face.

 

The younger girl was definitely not thinking kind thoughts right about now. Rather, she was thinking the sort of things that would have gotten her a scolding from her granny.

 

Magica surveyed the triplets before deciding on Dewey. Dewey was the most vulnerable because he’d spearheaded the search for their mother and had been desperate to find answers. All three boys missed their mother, but Dewey was the weakest link. Webby tried to issue a warning growl, but that required more air than she had and she ended up gasping.

 

“Dewey,” Magica implored and shook him.

 

C’mon, Dewey. Don’t fall for it.

 

Dewey stirred after about half a minute of shaking and stared around him, bleary-eyed. Webby panted, flailing mentally and getting nowhere. Look at me, Dewey. Look at me.

 

“Mom?” the middle triplet murmured. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

 

The pressure on Webby’s chest lessened, enough for her to breathe without seeing spots before her eyes. She found she could roll onto her side; it appeared that Magica could only maintain one spell at a time. Her effort to reproduce Della’s appearance and voice meant she was focusing on her imitation and not on confining Webby.

 

“Mom?” Louie and Huey said and Louie fell off the bed. Webby rolled her eyes and slapped her palm on the table. Huey’s gaze shot to her.

 

“Huey--” she hissed and her body froze again. This time, Magica had increased the weight on her chest so that her vision was breaking up into little black spots. She wheezed; the scene before had gone fuzzy on the sides.

 

“What’s wrong with Webby?” Huey asked, suspicious. “And how did you know where to find us, if you’ve been gone for ten years? How did you get back? Scrooge said you were lost in a space storm. No one’s heard from you for ten years and you just show up here out of nowhere?”

 

By this time, Webby’s vision had faded out completely and she was drifting, her hold on reality tenuous. Magica might really suffocate her. Would she parade her around in front of Lena and Scrooge as a trophy if she killed her?

 

She slipped into unconsciousness, not hearing Magica’s reply.

 

\----  
  
  
  
“Webby!” Huey yelped and sprang out of bed. He collapsed a second later and “Della” turned on them. Her eyes shone black and she sneered at the children. Stepping back, she picked up Webby by her hair and dangled her.

 

“You’re not our mom,” Huey snapped.

 

“How would you know?” Magica crooned. “You’ve never even met her. At least I know what she sounds like. At least I knew her before she vanished. You three can’t even claim that, can you?”

 

The jab struck home and all three flinched. Louie straightened up from the floor and glanced at Webby and then at the imposter and back.

 

“Let her go,” Louie ordered. He balled his fists and stared the adult duck down. The older woman didn’t even flinch. If anything, she looked amused at his petty defiance.

 

“Or I could continue to suffocate her if you three don’t come with me,” she said. “It’s your choice. A couple of minutes or more and she’ll be medically brain dead.”

 

“Leave her alone!” Huey burst out. “What do you want with us?”

 

The imposter snorted and changed back into Magica, to no one’s real surprise. Their gazes were linked to Webby, who hung limply in Magica’s grip.

 

“I want you three to come with me,” she said. “And I’ll let the brat live. For now.”

 

She tossed Webby onto the floor and Webby gasped, drawing sharp, shallow breaths until she could breathe properly. Louie and Dewey fell to the floor beside her; both took a hand. She was trembling and hatred roiled in Huey’s chest. Magica had come in here, imitated their mother, and then nearly killed Webby in front of them.

 

“Do you need another demonstration or will you come with me?” Magica scoffed.

 

“Don’t you dare harm a feather on her head,” Louie snapped. Huey’s stomach roiling was competing with the hatred in his chest and he was worried, for a few seconds, that Webby might not rouse entirely. The amount of pain that caused was immeasurable, in the same league as someone pretending to be their mother to gain their attention.

 

“You’re despicable,” Huey growled.

 

“Darling, don’t compliment me. I’m blushing,” Magica replied. She waved her hand and the three of them hurried to assure that they were, in fact, coming. Magica desisted and Webby’s eyelids fluttered.

 

“Della is Magica,” Webby rasped out. “You can’t trust her! She’s Magica, she’s not your mom!”

 

“We know,” Louie said quietly. Magica snorted, standing over Webby, who flinched at the sight of her. All three boys were glaring daggers at Magica; like Scrooge had said after the Spear of Silene, when they’d finally gotten their family business sorted, they were all family. And Magica had almost killed one of them. He was sick with rage.

 

“Don’t bother calling for Gizmoduck or Gyro,” Magica added. “They’re out cold.”

 

She rubbed her palms together in glee. “Everything is coming along so much better than I’d hoped.”

 

She must’ve applied a little pressure to Webby’s throat, because the young girl gasped, curling onto her side and holding her throat. When Webby looked up at her again, her eyes were full of unshed tears.

 

“Stop it!” the three boys commanded in unison.

 

“This isn’t the show yet,” Magica scoffed. “This is just the rehearsal, brats. The main attraction is the Bloodhound Gang and I believe your little Webby knows exactly what that means.”

 

Webby was working not to reveal the terror her words invoked, but Huey saw her shaking. He, along with his brothers, put a supporting hand on her to help her move toward the door. The look she shot Magica was pure venom and if the sorceress hadn’t clearly had the upper hand, Huey might have wondered how wise it was to be in Webby’s vicinity. Webby looked a combination of apprehensive and enraged.

 

“You’re going to let them hurt me in front of them?” Webby gasped out, still working on regaining her normal breathing patterns.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Magica said, waving her hand in dismissal. “Even I have my limits. It’ll just be a show to bring your Uncle Scrooge and my apostate niece back and show them the error of their ways.”

 

“But why would you team up with people like that?” Webby persisted. “You know what they’ve done. You’ve seen my nightmares. I know you’re evil, but they’re a whole different level of evil. They’re, like, scum of the earth evil.”

 

She shuddered again and Louie and Dewey squeezed her hands. Huey squeezed her shoulder.

 

“Sometimes, in my line of work, we have to do things that are distasteful,” Magica responded. “I won’t let them touch you again in that way.”

 

Webby stopped, causing the boys to either walk into her or halt too.

 

“Why do you care how they hurt me?” she asked. As none of them were under a geas, Webby rounded on her. Huey was impressed by her courage, even though her hands were bunched in her skirts and her body quivered like a plucked string.

 

“Because, brat, there are some things I will not abide and that is one of them,” Magica said. She sounded irritated she had to quantify this. Webby’s gaze swept the perimeter and Magica sighed, forcing them to march ahead of her. It looked like question and answer time was over.

 

Except Magica had taken control of their bodies, not their mouths, and Webby was determined to wring answers from her.

 

“So, murder is okay, but you draw the line at rape?” Webby asked and for the first time, her voice betrayed her nerves; it shook too. Seeing as Magica had compelled them to walk as they had been, Louie and Dewey turned to look at her. Huey was stunned and would have stopped to look if he’d had a choice in the matter.

 

It was the first time Webby had voiced aloud what had happened. The triplets exchanged glances. They were aware of the word and had a vague idea of what it meant. They hadn’t known it had happened to her.

 

“Webby…” Huey said and he didn’t know what he was pleading her for, just that he was pleading.

 

“Yes, I draw the line at rape,” Magica snapped. “What do you think I am, a monster?”

 

“Lena sure thinks so,” Webby muttered. She glared at Magica. “And after what you did to my granny, I agree with her.”

 

“Enough!” Magica snarled. “Enough with the questions, enough with the lack of progress. From now on, none of you are saying anything. Do you understand?”

 

Seeing as they were no longer capable of speaking, all four could only nod.

 

“Good,” she snapped. “You’re much more pleasant when you’re not talking.”

 

Left alone with his thoughts after Webby’s admission churned his stomach. He wanted to talk to her, but his jaw was glued to his upper beak. He could turn his head to look at her and she had hers held high, despite everything. She was marching to an uncertain, terrible fate without flinching. Even though he was petrified, both for her and for them, he was also proud of her. Whatever the Bloodhound Gang had done to her, they hadn’t broken her. Not yet.

 

It gave him a slim hope for the future and also raised a question. If Gyro and Gizmoduck were out of commission, that still didn’t explain where Scrooge and Lena had gotten off to…

\----

They’d wandered around for a good hour to no avail. Thus far, they’d managed to avoid the real hoodlums, but Lena wasn’t overly optimistic about that continuing. The fact was that if someone managed to steal Launchpad away, she and Scrooge would be worthless in a fight. True, she’d never seen Scrooge in combat, but how much good could he be? He was an old man with a grudge and a cane.

 

Even she didn’t frequent this area, which meant she was as adrift as the others. Magica, in a self-centered attempt to protect her, had prevented her from wandering too far down these paths. After all, if Lena died, Magica would lose her vessel. (And if something else happened to her, she might not venture around to procure what Magica needed. It was never out of a sense of altruism).

 

“What if she’s not here? What do we do then?” Launchpad asked, speaking the question that had been weighing on Lena’s mind. His bringing it up grated her raw nerves. She wasn’t happy to be spending time with Scrooge, even if he’d apologized. She knew he distrusted her, with good reason, and it only reminded her of how she’d been Magica’s pawn.

 

“Then we keep looking until we find them!” Scrooge snapped. “We’re not going to give up and let those lowlives get away with hurting my Webbigail.”

 

“That could take hours,” Launchpad pointed out. “We should come up with a plan.”

 

“Well, Lena?” Scrooge prompted. “Do you have any ideas, lass?”

 

A phone vibrated and the three startled. Launchpad checked his pockets, but it wasn’t him. And Lena didn’t have a cell phone, not unless you counted the burner phones she used on occasion. But those were usually only for sending messages and calling people, not receiving.

 

Scrooge plucked the cell phone from his pocket and Lena and Launchpad unconsciously leaned closer to the billionaire to listen to the other side. Scrooge was too intent on the conversation to reprimand them. Magica’s voice issued, tinny, from the speaker, and Lena froze. This was too coincidental for her liking.

 

“I have something you want,” Magica crooned. “You’ve been rather careless, Scroogie, leaving your family unprotected like that. Say hi, Webbigail.”

 

“It’s a trap,” Webby cried and Lena’s heart wrenched. “She's--”

 

“That’s enough out of her. She’s quite chatty, but I assume you knew that,” Magica crooned.

 

Scrooge gritted his teeth. “I assume you’ve captured my nephews as well.”

 

“Poor little Webbigail could so use some companionship,” Magica taunted. “Although your brats were quite annoying when it came to letting her meet the Bloodhound Gang. Rather overprotective.”

 

The blood drained from Lena’s face and Scrooge froze, one hand tight on his cell phone and the other squeezing his cane so hard it creaked. Launchpad alone looked baffled, but then again, Lena hadn’t supposed Scrooge had filled the thirty-one-year-old man in on what was going on.

 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magica added, Scrooge’s rage searing the air between them and almost physical--it seemed Scrooge was so angry he couldn’t speak--”I’d never let them hurt her that way. I’m not a monster.”

 

“You release them this instant!” Scrooge roared. He didn’t seem to notice that shouting in the middle of a bad neighborhood might not be the best idea. Lena cast a cautious glance over her shoulder. While she was sick with worry for Webby (and maybe a smidgen for the boys too), she was more apprehensive of what would happen should someone take notice of them here. Her well-honed reflexes told her that someone must’ve been alerted by now.

 

“I’d rather you came to see them,” Magica rejoined.

 

As important as the conversation was, Lena’s attention was drifting. They were standing in the middle of an alleyway and the shadows near the end seemed to be moving. It was daytime, so the fact there were shadows at all, much less that deep, unnerved her. It was almost as if the person within them had learned how to harness them.

 

Launchpad’s gaze joined hers.

 

“Uh, Mr. McDee?” Launchpad said. “We might have more immediate problems.”

 

“What’s more immediate than the fact that Magica has my nephews and niece?” Scrooge demanded. Light glinted off a switchblade and Lena assumed a defensive position. She and Launchpad stood with their backs to Scrooge to protect him, although Lena was only doing it because Scrooge was the obvious target. He was older and perceived as infirm. Attack what won’t fight back first.

 

“We have company,” Lena hissed as four figures disentangled themselves from the shadows. Her heart skittered and she reached for the knife that Scrooge had commanded her to wear. Launchpad had assumed some sort of martial arts pose, which was just as well. Considering how often he crashed Scrooge’s planes, cars, and anything else Scrooge required moved, she wouldn’t have trusted Launchpad with a firearm.

 

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Scrooge said weakly and snapped the cell phone shut. Lena could hear Magica’s frustrated growl in her head.

 

“Can you handle yourself in a fight?” Lena asked in an undertone. She knew it was borderline impertinent, but she didn't want to have to compensate for him if she didn't have to.

 

“Of course I can,” he hissed back, offended. She refrained from rolling her eyes, but suffice to say, she didn’t believe him. Then again, she supposed there was no point in doubting it now. There wasn’t much she could do about it.

 

The four approached them and what she thought was a switchblade was a box cutter. That didn't alleviate her nerves much, but their outfits did. Her shoulders relaxed and she gave a brief, hysterical giggle. The Beagle Boys. They were inept, idiotic, and awful criminals; she was half surprised that the other ne'er do wells hadn't kicked them out. They didn't really _do_ anything.  
  
Nonetheless, they halted at the sight of the three of them. Perhaps something about Scrooge's expression said that he meant business, because they scurried up a short wall, jumped from there onto a fire escape, and then fled from sight. Harsh hysterical laughter kept burning her throat. It would've been ironic if they'd been held up at knifepoint right now, considering how on edge they all were.  
  
But of course. The fucking _Beagle Boys_. She wasn't sure now if she wanted to gasp in relief or start sobbing out of worry.

 

“So breaking into my house is fair game, but heaven forbid attacking us in the street,” Scrooge sniffed. He scooped the phone out of his pocket again and then moved forward, away from the blind alley. Lena’s heart pounded in her chest as he redialed Magica. She didn’t ask how someone who’d been out of touch with reality for fifteen years possessed Scrooge’s cell phone number. She didn’t see the point.

 

This time, she didn’t eavesdrop. Her nerves were stretched taut, close to the breaking point. She didn’t think she could take any more surprises. Harsh, hysterical giggling burned her throat and she hugged herself. She’d taken a few steps back from the two male ducks to isolate herself and in case a giggle snuck out. She knew what Magica was capable of. If she really wanted to, she could kill Webby. However, she’d hold off until they arrived. She wanted an audience.

 

“Right,” Scrooge said, stowing the cell phone back into his pocket. A small, silver object fell out and Lena stared at it curiously before he shoved that aside too. It’d had a blue tip and resembled a screwdriver, except perhaps sonic? It didn’t matter right now. It was just another distraction. They had enough of them.

 

“We’re heading for the abandoned theatre,” he informed them. Lena nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and Launchpad asked whether Scrooge wanted to take the limo. Lena didn’t see the point in walking over there. Either they’d come back with Webby and the boys or they’d leave empty-handed. She didn’t want to contemplate what would have precipitated that situation.  
  
She used to live beneath the theatre before she'd separated from Magica. The theatre brought back old, unpleasant memories of their being connected and she'd moved to beneath the city instead. True, it wasn't exactly pleasant, being damp and dreary, but at least it didn't have any unpleasant associations.

 

She shuffled over to the limo, which Launchpad had parked out of the way. After Launchpad and Scrooge seated themselves, Lena watched the scenery blur past without anything standing out. She couldn’t help but picture the worst case scenarios. She knew her aunt loathed Webby and blamed her for her niece “turning”. That meant her aunt could be capable of anything.

 

As for the boys, they were insurance and possible participants, if Magica was feeling cruel enough. Lena pressed her forehead against the cool window glass and willed them to go faster. Never mind that if they did, Launchpad would probably crash the limo. Then again, he might crash the limo regardless.  
  
She didn’t think she could stand the waiting. The closer they got to Magica and her captives, the harder it became to squash her anxiety. Scrooge looked confident, as confident as he could be, she supposed, and she hated him for it. Didn’t he know what Magica could do if she got away with it? Didn’t he care? Or was he that arrogant to think he’d escape without consequences?

 

She placed her hands on her lap and then swallowed past a lump in her throat. Launchpad and Scrooge were talking, but their words fell over her like water and left no trace of their meaning. At one point, she thought Scrooge might have even addressed her, but she couldn’t tell. It felt like her mind was full of noise. This was the first time she’d seen Magica in person since she’d escaped and killed Mrs. Beakley. No matter how little Scrooge regarded Magica, this was portentous.

 

“Lass,” Scrooge said and laid a hand on her shoulder. She stirred, hissing, and he withdrew his hand.

 

“Everything will be all right.”

 

Lena still didn’t trust herself to speak. She stared at him blankly; her throat was too constricted to permit speech, anyway.

 

“It’ll all work out,” he said and all Lena could do was shake her head. In her world, Magica always won and she always suffered the consequences. She didn’t remember what it was like not to fear her aunt. It was such an obvious conclusion that she couldn’t comprehend why other people didn’t fear Magica as she did.

 

“Have some faith in me,” he implored and Lena tried to smile, but she couldn’t move her lips very much. Scrooge sighed.

 

“At least have some faith in Webby,” he cajoled. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

 

Lena didn’t reply. All she could think of was her nightmare, where her aunt had transformed Webby into a doll and then blown her to pieces. Her throat ached and she glanced back out the window. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was over. There was nothing more to say, after all. What would be, would be.


	7. 7 Minutes of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby gets her revenge on the Bloodhound Gang, which leads to consequences addressed in the sequel.
> 
> This is the final chapter of Bad Touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, look, I can curse in this one. You know what’s annoying as fuck? Insomnia and nightmares caused by an anti-anxiety medication. I hate my life.
> 
> This is the final chapter of Bad Touch. Synthesis, its sequel, will be coming next week while I also try to figure out where I’m going in Synthesis further down the line. -_-

Tying her up hadn’t worked as planned. Not only was Webby highly resistant to being bound, no one knew how to hold her long enough to complete tying her up. The triplets they’d managed, but Webby was another story altogether. Magica had to compel the Bloodhound Gang not to resort to their usual abhorrent behavior, which meant she couldn’t focus on keeping Webby in line. And the young girl was bouncing all over the place, desperate to avoid capture and unwilling to let anyone put their hands on her again. Magica understood, even if it was getting highly irritating.

If she released her compulsion on the Bloodhound Gang, she could focus on restraining Webbigail. Unfortunately, that meant she’d have to seize control of them again soon after, lest they give into their bestial appetites. (And why did no one believe her when she said she wasn’t a monster? Honestly. If she were a monster, she would've just let them have her and to hell with it).

If she hadn’t wanted to kill the little brat before, she certainly did now. She pinned Webby in place with her magic and saw, out of the corner of her eye, the Bloodhound Gang leader approaching her with a club. She sighed, restraining him too, but in the process, losing sight of Webby again.

“Damn you, stay still!” she snapped.

“And I should do that why?” Webby countered, hands on her hips.

“You could just let us all go,” Huey suggested and she glowered at him. She only knew their names because she’d been monitoring their dreams. And she hated that she knew that much about them. Huey, for example, tended to think of logistics and problem-solving. He was considered the most intelligent of the three, although Louie was a nerd too, even if it was only about treasure and gold.

Magica snarled, blasting Webby in the chest with a blow that slammed her into one of the pillars. With her stunned, she rounded on the Bloodhound Gang, her supposed “associates”, and hit them with a compulsion to _ignore their damned desires_. She pinned them in place while she advanced on Webby. Webby groaned, forcing herself to her feet.

“You’ll have to work harder than that…” Webby said and Magica suppressed a sigh. No wonder Scrooge was proud of this brat. She was a handful. Webby walked forward, despite the pain in her back and stomach, and Magica broke off a piece of the pillar to crash it onto Webby’s head. The girl whirled, jumping clear of it. Holy. Shit. She was going to kill her. (On this note, no wonder it’d been hard to kill Mrs. Beakley--she must’ve gotten in a lucky shot).

“Stay still so I can capture you!” she commanded.

“Again, not seeing why I should do that,” she retorted. She jumped behind the pillars holding the boys and undid their ties. Beyond pissed, Magica froze the entire area, sticking everyone’s feet to the wooden stage planks. Frozen solid, no one could move and she broke the ice enough so she could glue Webby and the other brats to the floor. She kept the ice up so it’d reduce their temperature and induce hypothermia.

The boys remained confined now by the ice, and Magica freed the Bloodhound Gang. She let them approach Webby, who was still, unbelievably, attempting to wriggle free. Magica seethed, grabbing Webby by the throat and strangling her. She pressed tightly on Webby’s trachea and listened, content, to the brat gasp for air. Unfortunately, if anything, her struggles grew stronger and cracks appeared in the ice. Magica applied pressure and considered snapping her neck. The boys were shouting and she tuned them out.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Webby had been trained for this eventuality too. She flailed, smacking Magica three times in the face and prompting the woman to seriously reconsider keeping her alive. She applied more pressure onto her throat, enough to damage her windpipe, and the boys' shouting reached a fever pitch. Webby was going limp due to oxygen deprivation and Magica snorted. Better. She liked her better when she was limp and unresponsive.

Webby’s struggles ceased and she relinquished her grip on her throat. The girl was still breathing, albeit shallowly, and her color was poor. How upset would Lena and Scrooge be if she killed her right here and now?

The Bloodhound Gang was approaching the boys now and Magica hissed, praying they didn’t have a predilection for boys too. That would be just peachy. She might have to kill Webby anyway in that case, just as a stress reliever.

“You four,” she snapped. “You have more important matters on hand. Take the girl and get creative.”

Her eyes flashed. “And _not_ what you did last time. I’ll be watching you.”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” the leader protested.

“You really have no idea?” Magica huffed. “Are you that daft? _Torture her._ Wake her up and make her scream and beg for mercy.”

“It’s more likely that they’ll be doing that, not her,” Louie commented and Magica slapped ice over their mouths. She could still hear him, muffled, but not his words. Fine. She wanted to hear them howl when Webby was mauled.

The Bloodhound Gang leader snorted and slashed Webby’s shirt. “Wake up, princess!”

Webby groaned, eyelids fluttering. Then, to Magica's disgust and shock, she jumped into an offensive position. She was panting, working on regaining her breath, but she was still ready and willing to fight. At least, she was until the leader brought out his favorite toy. Then Webby's eyes grew wide and Magica smiled. Yes, that was right, don't fight guns.

Webby jumped just as the guy fired and, although her knees buckled, still woozy from her previous strangulation, she knocked the gun out of his hands and, after a couple kicks, into the ocean nearby. It sank immediately.

"Webby!" the boys cried as the younger girl collapsed, gasping. Magica could see the marks on her throat where she'd strangled her and smirked.

"Are you so sure you can win this?" Magica taunted, raising her staff and pointing it at her.

 "You took away my granny and you tried to take away Lena," Webby snapped. Her voice was hoarse. "Are _you_ so sure _you_ can win this?"

 "The only reason you're still alive is that I'm waiting for an audience," Magica returned. "And the brats don't count."

Webby glanced at them, just for a second, but it was enough for Magica to blast her. The younger girl noticed it at the last instant and spun away, causing one of the pillars to creak ominously and then sheer off. Magica cursed.

"Do something, you idiots!" she snapped at the Bloodhound Gang. "You were supposed to paralyze her with fear, not let her run rampant!"

"Yeah, about that," Webby said in an offhand voice. "Fear is a great motivator too."

Magica's eyes narrowed and she scrutinized her. Webby was panting, the bruises livid against her throat, and she was trembling. Magica smiled. She couldn't blast her with magic, but if she could anticipate where she would be, she could cast a fear spell strong enough to freeze her in place as effectively as the ice. It wouldn't require much, just a little amplification. She could practically smell the brat's terror.

She feinted right and Webby fell for it. Ice slicked the floorboards and Webby skidded, spinning around and colliding straight with Magica's next attack. As she did, she crumpled and struggled to draw breath. The triplets were moving in concert, trying to break through the ice and Magica thickened it. She advanced on Webby.

Webby's eyes were huge and round in her face. Yes, Magica knew the taste of the girl's fear. It had spiked and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Magica snapped her fingers, beckoning the Bloodhound Gang near.

"Torture her," Magica instructed. Her eyes narrowed. "Just don't rape her. And keep her conscious. I want her to know when her so-called 'salvation' comes."

One of the Bloodhound Gang members pulled out a switchblade and slashed at Webby's cheeks. Webby kicked up, the effort feeble but enough to dislodge the weapon. It, too, went flying through the air. Magica hissed, clamping down on Webby's fear and doubling it. She heard ice cracking and growled; the triplets were back to trying to stomp their way through and reach their honorary sibling.

"Gonna have to try...harder than that..." Webby panted and Magica strode forward and punched her in the stomach. It stole Webby's breath away and the girl doubled over, diaphragm spasming. That would put an end to her fighting for a little while.

One of the Bloodhound Gang pinned her to the floor with their knife in her skirt. They were giving each other lecherous looks and Webby struggled, attempting to fend them off while simultaneously trying to draw breath. She failed at both. The boys were suspiciously silent and Magica looked at them. Still trying to break the ice.

Waving her staff, Magica covered them in ice up to their shoulders. Let them get through _that_. Little brats.

"I told you that was off-limits!" Magica snarled, returning her gaze to the Bloodhound Gang, who were inching Webby's skirt up. On the plus side, Webby's breathing had gone shallow, panic suffusing her features. The boys were back to shouting. But damn it, this was not how Magica had wanted to control her, even if it was effective.

"You said torture her," the leader sneered. "Maybe a little reminder will help."

Webby snarled again, wrenching the blade from her skirt, and sank the blade in the closest place she could reach. Magica took it the girl wasn't thinking, blindly reacting according to her grandmother's training. There was no other way that the girl would've stabbed the leader in the chest otherwise.

Blood slicked the knife and Webby retreated, staring in horror. The boys fell silent, thankfully, and the Bloodhound Gang gaped at Webby. Magica knew without investigating that it was a mortal wound the girl had dealt.

"I didn't mean to..." Webby squeaked. Blood spurted all over the floor and splashed her in the face, as well as coating the boards and soaking her clothes. Horrified, she looked toward the triplets.

"Holy shit..." Louie said and his brothers stared at him. "What? If now isn't the time to curse, I don't know when is."

The leader stared at the younger girl for a half minute before collapsing, facefirst, onto the theatre floor at her feet. His blood proceeded to soak the floorboards and Webby whimpered, stumbling backward and away as fast as she could considering that her hands and feet were slicked with blood. She skidded and fell onto her rear; she was close to hyperventilating.

Perfect. Well, okay, not quite, this was not at all how Magica pictured things going, but at least Webby was too shocked and disconcerted to do anything now.

Meanwhile, the remaining Bloodhound Gang, perhaps seeing their demise before their eyes, bolted. They scurried in all directions and Magica rolled her eyes. Useless. They couldn't handle real violence.

She scooped Webby up by her collar and smirked at her. "I knew you'd come to see things my way eventually."

It was a measure of how much her previous actions had immobilized her that she didn't fight the woman's grip. Webby’s eyes had gone wide and her breathing was shallow, accompanied by a slight wheeze from the earlier strangulation.

"Your first kill, isn't it?" Magica sneered. "Bet you never thought that would happen, huh?"

“Unhand my grand-niece at once,” Scrooge snapped and Magica smiled. Right on time. She’d been worried that the Beagle Boys might delay them--what rotten timing on their part. Lena rushed to Webby and Magica hit her with a magical blast that sent the teenager spinning into Launchpad. They both careened off to the side.

"...what in the blazes is going on?" Scrooge added, staring around them. Lena's gaze flicked from the body to Webby and back.

“Good to see you, too, Scroogie,” Magica said and Scrooge’s face darkened. He glanced at Webby, who was trembling and looked like she’d been doused in blood. Her lips were trembling and she was whimpering.

"Webby, did you...?" He seemed at a loss for words.

Webby swallowed convulsively and tried to speak. Nothing came out.  Her throat clicked.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Magica crooned. "There's always such a rush when you take a life."

Webby gagged and Magica released her in time for the girl to throw up at her feet. Magica moved to the side to avoid the splatter and rolled her eyes. Pathetic.

"It'd be more impressive, of course, if she hadn't vomited," Magica said, disapproving. "You need to own your rage, child."

"I didn't mean to do it!" Webby protested weakly and looked at Lena. She and Launchpad had struggled to their feet. That gave Magica an idea. It'd been a while since she'd had a good puppet.

She seized control of Webby’s body and shoved the girl’s thoughts to the background of her mind. Considering how horrified the girl was by her actions, that was simpler than it might otherwise have been.

Webby moved like a puppet, the one that Lena should have used instead of...Magica perused her niece’s mind and scoffed in disgust.

“You fell in _love_ with the brat?” she asked Lena. "You still love her after what she's done?"

“She acted in self-defense, unlike you,” Lena said and Magica could detect her heart rate kicking up a notch. She was already on edge over what they'd stumbled into. _Would_ Lena still care for her now that she'd shed what was left of her innocence?

“You’re useless _and_ stupid. Right, Webbigail?” Magica swirled her finger and the girl about-faced, turning to Scrooge and Lena. “Tell them exactly what I mean."

“I can’t believe you thought I’d forgiven you,” Webby said to Lena. “You used me just to get Scrooge’s number one dime. And at least I had the guts to get rid of someone. You couldn't even manage that."

"She didn't do it on purpose!" Lena retorted, but her voice quivered. Magica raised her eyebrows.

"And you believe that?" she countered. "You believe that deep down, Webbigail hasn't always wanted to know what it felt like to take someone's life?"

Lena didn't respond and Scrooge snarled.

"No, she hasn't," he snapped. "She was defending herself and she didn't mean to kill him if that's what happened. Stop spinning this to suit yourself."

Magica snorted and twirled Webby around again, just to prove that she could and that Webby, along with the others, was powerless to stop her. “I can always break her little neck. Would you love her then, I wonder?”

She turned when she saw movement again out of the corner of her eye. Somehow, the boys had broken free from the ice, which admittedly Magica hadn't been keeping an eye on or paying the slightest bit of attention to. She couldn't handle multiple spells at once without something falling apart. The boys had snuck up behind her and she let Webby thud to the ground. She fixed the four brats in place, although since Webby was still a deer in the headlights, she didn’t put up a fight.

A cane slammed into her side, knocking the breath out of her, and Scrooge was in her face. He’d moved faster than she’d thought possible, but then again, he wasn’t as old as he pretended to be. Okay, yes, he was over a hundred years old, but he was agile and adroit. And she’d taken her eyes off him. To be fair, though, how were you supposed to keep track of everyone at once? 

Before Scrooge had a chance to retaliate further, Magica countered, throwing up her staff to block his next attack. They parried, exchanging blows that didn't connect to each other's frustration, and Magica decided she was done playing fair. She seized Webby as a shield and held her in front of her. 

“Attack me again and I’ll kill her,” Magica swore. She still had control over her and the girl blinked blearily. Ugh, the girl's shirt was wet and Magica was getting that disgusting dog's blood on her hands.

“Well?” Magica queried. “What do you intend to do?”

Something large slammed into her head and she released her grasp on Webby. Her vision dimmed and she heard Huey say, “Junior Woodchuck Guide rule number 6: always be prepared.”

He’d hit her with the part of the pillar that had broken off. She’d be infuriated if her limbs hadn’t gone leaden. Webby gasped for air beside her and Scrooge patted Huey on the shoulder.

“Good job, lad,” he said. Magica attempted to rise and Scrooge placed a knee in her back. “We’ll be taking her back to the prison, this time in a magical-less cell.”

Magica huffed, about the best she could do at present. She vowed revenge. It might not happen again soon, but it would. And this time, she’d figure out how to account for all the variables. For all that she’d studied Webbigail’s nightmares, she hadn’t anticipated her proficiency at protecting herself and attacking others. That self-defense murder was an interesting sidenote, though. Magica wondered whether she could use that...

\-----  
  
"Are you all right, lass?" Scrooge asked, peering at Webby in consternation. Now that the fighting was over and Magica was down for the count, Webby was shaking. She looked, unfortunately, like someone who could use her grandmother. Since Mrs. Beakley was no longer with them, however...he hugged Webby tightly and Webby whimpered.

  
Yes, that meant that he got blood all over his outfit, but he was also wearing raggedy gear courtesy of Lena’s suggestion. He’d have to burn the clothes afterward, along with Webby’s.

Webby was trembling so badly in his arms that she almost felt like she was having a seizure. Her attempts to breathe were broken by hoarse sobs.

"I don't know," Webby managed after a minute. After what she’d gone through, he’d almost expected her not to speak at all.

"That was insane," Huey said, subdued.

"I didn't know you could do that," Dewey added.

"Neither did I," Webby muttered. She closed her eyes and Lena stroked her hair. It was sticky with blood and didn’t move right.

"What do we do now?" Huey asked, staring around them. He touched Webby's hand; although he looked shaken up too, he and the other boys came closer to protect Webby. From what, Scrooge didn't know, but he appreciated their concern for her.

"Leave it to me," Scrooge reassured them. Yeah, he'd definitely have to look into a therapist for Webby. Right after he figured a way to tastefully make that scum disappear, lest Webby get in a lot of legal trouble over it.

  
"Can we go home now?" Webby asked, voice muffled.

  
"Of course, lass," he said and stroked her hair too.

  
He nudged Magica's unconscious form with his foot. He liked her better that way than terrorizing his family. Lena's eyes narrowed and Scrooge affected an innocent look.

  
"Why don't we get you five home and cleaned up," he decided. "The rest can come later."

  
He strongly suspected that the person Webby had stabbed was the one that had attacked her. He could hardly say that he hadn't deserved it. It left him in a bit of a bind, but there were few things you couldn't throw money at to make disappear. Or reappear.

 

Except for Della. His chest was tight thinking of his niece. He pushed her to the side for now. There were more important things at hand.

 

And anyway, whatever had become of Della could wait for now. For all he knew, she was on the dark side of the moon...

 


End file.
